


Blood Is Thicker Than Water

by celynBrum (Celyn_Brum)



Series: Alternian Nation [4]
Category: Alien Nation, Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternian Nation, Conspiracies, Crime, Culture Shock, Drama, Mistakes Are Made, Multi, Other, Trolls on Earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 113,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1380931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celyn_Brum/pseuds/celynBrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a deadly new drug on the streets of LA, and it means trouble for the alien refugees still finding their place on Earth. With dangerous machinations at work beneath the surface, the stakes are high. Who can be trusted in the growing web of deceit, and how deep does the conspiracy run?</p><p>Soon, sixteen teenagers will find out just who does stand by them- and who doesn't.<br/>___<br/><em>You don't have to know Alien Nation at all to read, understand or enjoy this fic! You should probably read Home Is Where The Heart Is and All's Fair In Love And War first, though.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ==> Be The Guy In The Street

### PROLOGUE ==> Be The Guy In The Street

It wasn't the best part of town, not by a long shot, but at least it was _human._ Ray Arden wasn't allowed to turn away any goat-eaters that showed up unless they were actually breaching the club's entrance policy, but luckily hardly any of the gray-skinned freaks ever made an appearance. And if he was looking a little closer at the ones who did- well, he was the bouncer, and he could turf out anyone who wasn't up to spec. It was practically the entire job description.

Right now he was eying up the only troll in the line, which sadly wasn't the first of the night. He'd been forced to let a couple of them in earlier, although he'd been hoping to bar those two for fighting in the line. Unfortunately their arguing, mockery and dares hadn't escalated far enough before they got past him, and their IDs were all in order. He was left to pass them through into the pounding smoke and darkness of Rewind and hope that nobody inside got hurt when they kicked off.

The troll waiting now was different, though; he was all skin and bone, slick with red-tinted sweat, and it looked like the only thing keeping him upright was the equally skeletal human man he was leaning against. It would have been obvious to a rookie on his first day that the goat-eater was fried on something, and from the glazed look the dark-skinned man with him was sporting the troll wasn't the only one. Ray's face didn't move but inwardly he indulged a moment of satisfaction; druggies and drunks he was allowed to bar, and he was going to take great pleasure in telling that to this weirdo pervert and his alien fuckbuddy.

He gave the half-dozen or so people ahead of the pair the most cursory of glances before waving them in. When he reached the front, the dark-skinned human man made to keep walking as if he hadn't noticed the bouncer looming ahead of him.

"Hold up there, buddy," said Ray, lowering his arm and stepping in front of the door. "Not you two."

The human looked up at him with large, hooded eyes that seemed eerily flat and empty to the bouncer. Close to, Ray could see that the troll was in worse shape than he'd thought, shivering and gasping for breath in short, sharp pants against the man's shoulder. There was a faint red glow running over the alien's hands and head, a rippling layer of turbulent light that had to be psionic. It looked almost like flames on low gas, apart from the color. Ray fought the urge to step back; the little shit was probably flying high on Mind Honey, although he was awfully quiet for it. Every goat-eater Ray had ever seen on the stuff was bouncing off the walls, not looking about ready to keel over. It couldn't be sopor, though; that would shut down the psionics, not amplify them, and the way the troll's eyes were flickering about, wild as it was, said that the mind in there was still firing.

"We're going in," said the human, saying the words slowly as if he was considering the idea for the first time. If it wasn't for the troll, he would have been the most drugged-out guy Ray had seen all night, and in this shit-hole that was saying something.

"Not a chance," Ray told him, shifting his weight over his feet. He was proud of his physique; daily workouts plus a naturally bulky build made it easy for him to intimidate difficult customers without actually starting anything. Not that he had a problem in that area, but it was a matter of professional pride that he didn't lay hands on anyone he didn't have to. Especially when "anyone" these days might be sweating fucking koolaid.

The man just looked back at him, unruffled by Ray's patented air of you wanna make something of this, friend? If he hadn't been so clearly stoned beyond reason, it might even have been a little creepy just how calmly he was taking the whole business. "We gotta go in," he said, his voice holding in a weird monotone that still sounded more curious than pleading. "We're meeting his friend in there." He jerked his head towards the barely-conscious alien slumped against his shoulder. "He's got his medicine, man."

Great. Ray knew that there were dealers in the club- couldn't keep 'em out, not without some sort of strip-search door policy that even he had to admit wasn't viable for a competitive business- but did they really have to trail their strung-out clientele after them?

"Walk it off," he said, nodding towards the street behind them. Neon signs cut through the darkness, the best look for a neighborhood that was run-down by daylight. The man stared at him and Ray met his gaze levelly, not willing to budge on the issue. The line shifted uneasily, sensing the stalemate ahead.

"Ray!"

Surprised, he looked around at the feminine shout and saw the barmaid, Mitzy, hanging half out of the front door of the club and even further out of her top. A few of the guys in the line whistled or gawped at the cleavage, but Ray's eyes were drawn to the loose strands of carrot-orange hair that had escaped and were dangling in front of her face, the rumpled creases of work in her clothes. There was a beery stain on her left sleeve; Ray thought his fellow employee had never looked more stunning.

"You gotta come quick!" Mitzy gasped. "It's those two you let in earlier! He's trying to get them out back now..."

Ray started moving before she had even finished talking, slinging the rope across the door and muscling his way into the crush inside. He was the big guy, coming through and pissed as hell because where did that asshole get off doing Ray's damn job when he was paid for the goddamn music?

Speaking of the music, even if he hadn't known the DJ was away from his tables he could have heard it the moment he stepped onto the dance floor. The guy might be a massive flaming douchebag but he knew his stuff, alright. Ray could swear he'd heard everything from Beethoven to African drumming to the My Little Pony theme song mixed into the club beats in the past, somehow fitting seamlessly into the flow. Right now the only thing playing was a solid but bland beat, and half the floor was dancing to it like it was the greatest composition ever created anyway.

The other half of the floor was a different sort of writhing mass, an expanding wave of individual clubbers trying to get away from a disturbance. Ray plowed on, knowing he wouldn't see anything in the dark and the smoke and the flashing neon lights until he was close enough to grab what he found. He was hoping that the DJ wasn't in there showboating like usual, but he knew from the start that his hopes were unfounded. It was no surprise when he stepped around a hovering clubber to see Strider holding one goat-eater in a headlock while fighting off the other alien one-handed. Almost instinctively, Ray's eyes slid over to the DJ booth, and he felt a twin shiver of fear and relief when he saw that eerie ventriloquist doll sitting over by the turntables. In Strider's _chair,_ the creepy fuck.

When he'd first met the guy, he'd assumed the puppet was some kind of mascot or hipster prop. The idea had started to seem increasingly off the more he saw of the DJ, and Ray had finally been brutally parted from the idea that Li'l Cal was anything so wholesome as a poser's toy at the end of the first month. _Nobody_ should be able to beat a guy into submission with a fucking _ventriloquist_ doll. After that, he'd pretty much realized that Strider was the sort of lunatic best kept under observation from a safe distance and settled into keeping a cautious eye on him and trying to persuade Mitzy that the guy wasn't potential boyfriend material.

Unfortunately it was hard to keep a wary, professional distance when Strider was doing his goddamn job for him. Ray decided it was well past time to make a move and did so, wading in and grabbing the second goat-eater. She yelped and managed to get in a good swipe with her claws before being bodily lifted off the ground. He ignored the shallow bleeding and offered up a brief but fervent prayer of thanks that neither alien was too freakishly strong or a goddamn psychic. He congratulated himself for those extra defense courses, the ones with all that alien stuff in them. Knowing for a fact that his thrashing captive would have to to dislocate her own shoulders to escape when he had his arms hitched up under hers was deeply reassuring.

"Everyone clear a path!" he bellowed over the music, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Strider was grabbing his own captive the same way. Ray couldn't even tell if the second one was male or female, not that it mattered either way from what he heard. The two of them muscled through the crowd as the heavy pulse of the music shifted into a different electronic song. The music faded and the yells of their prisoners grew louder as they stepped into the black corridor that led to the bathrooms. A startled, half-dressed girl came lurching out of the ladies, then squeaked and pulled back into the guy behind her as they bulled past.

"Ma'am," said Strider, playing up that southern accent of his for all it was worth. Ray ground his teeth; the guy sounded polite, but then he usually did when he was mocking someone.

The fire door at the end of the corridor didn't close right. They usually locked it with a broom handle at the end of the night, but for health and safety reasons they couldn't do that when the club was full; Ray just kept an eye on the alley entrance while he was at the door. Now he opened it with a boot, letting in a burst of air that was cool and didn't stink of sweat and perfume. He dragged his kicking, screaming prisoner out into the alley and dumped her unceremoniously onto a pile of garbage bags next to the dumpster.

"You're out," he told her, as Strider tossed her growling partner down next to her. "Get lost, both of you."

"Fuck you!" the unidentified troll yelled, green eyes glinting from the shadows and Jesus Christ its voice was as androgynous as the rest of it. "We got every right to be in your shitty club!"

"Not if you break the 'no fighting' rule," Ray told it, staying ready for anything because you never could tell with the gray fuckers. "Now leave before I call the cops."

The other troll, the girl, looked like she was about to jump on him. Her partner grabbed her arm and dragged her back.

"Just fucking leave it," the green-eyed goat-eater said, disgust as plain as its accent. "Not worth it for that shit."

The two of them scrambled out of the alleyway; Ray watched them go, then turned back to look at Strider, leaning on the door frame.

"Shouldn't you be working?" he snapped.

"Shouldn't you?" Strider replied. His expression was impenetrable behind those ridiculous damn shades. "I'd say we both earned ourselves a breather for dealing with this bullshit." He shifted, wedging his foot into the opposite corner of the frame to help support him, and slotted his hands behind his head.

Ray’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to slam it shut, turn on his heel, and start marching out of the alley back towards the main door. Fuck knows how Mitzy had been doing at screening the line…

There was a heavy, hot wind and a world-consuming noise that could only be described as WHOOMPH, and suddenly Ray was lying on his face.

Since this meant his nose was pressed into the alley, he was quick to move, and as soon as he twitched every inch of his body reported injury. Ray groaned, or thought he did; he could feel his vocal chords move, but all he could hear was a faint ringing and a steady _whoosh-whoosh-thump_ that was reminiscent of being underwater.

He rolled his head over and saw someone else lying next to him; Strider lifted his head and for a moment Ray met a pair of brown eyes so light they looked orange. The DJ looked one hell of a lot different without his dumbass shades. His face was suddenly an open book, one with shock written all over it. Ray lay there for a few seconds as the guy hauled himself upright, idly wondering what the weird blue gel-capsule thing in Strider’s back pocket was. The other man’s mouth was moving but Ray couldn't hear a damn word the guy was saying so he ignored it. With another soundless grunt he took the DJ's hand and let himself be hauled upright, but as soon as he saw what was happening behind Strider, he wondered if he wouldn't have been better off staying down. 

All around them were small fires, and from the other side of the fire door Ray could smell smoke. He started moving before Strider had even finished slapping his back- shit, had his shirt been on fire?- and grabbed the door to hold it open.

"THIS WAY!" he bellowed into the building, not hearing the echo of his own voice or caring so long as it felt loud. His mind was already racing. They did technically comply with fire safety codes, he knew that much, but he was pretty sure some money had changed hands to get that certificate and there were only two ways out of the building for the hundreds of people jammed inside. "Strider, go around the front and..."

He broke off and stared in disbelief as the other man darted past him, running back into the club towards the red-tinted glow coming from inside. Ray's hand stretched out but he stopped short of grabbing the DJ, letting the man vanish into Rewind's burning interior. He briefly wondered if he should follow him in, but then the first of the panicked clubbers stumbled out in a haze of smoke and tears and Ray was very abruptly busy directing people to the front of the building.

By the time the flood of people dried up, a couple of minutes later, his hearing had mostly recovered. He could hear the screams and the panic and the sirens coming from the street; the air was thick with smoke that stank of more than dry ice, and Ray took one last glance into a corridor that was pulsing with unnatural, dark red flames before letting the door fall and following the rescued patrons around into the street out front. It was full of confused, milling people, held behind a cordon of police as firefighters turned a useless hose onto the building. Coughing bitter ash as he joined them, Ray noted that the flames leaping freely from every door, window and vent of the place still had maroon-tinted edges.

"Oh, thank God!" Mitzy barreled into Ray from the side, grabbing him into a tight hug. Taken aback, he returned the hug. "When I didn't see you out here I thought you must be inside!" the bartender said, before glancing back over her shoulder. Ray followed her look and his good mood immediately faded when he saw Strider hovering a couple of yards away, a slightly charred puppet slung over one shoulder.

“Did you seriously go back for that fucking thing?” he said, before his brain could intervene. Strider looked at him with those strange eyes and Ray could have sworn the DJ looked right through him like he wasn't even there.

“Sure, why not?” the DJ said, like he was explaining his decision to wear a different colored shirt today. It occurred to Ray that his first instinct had been right on the mark: the guy was a nut.

"He carried a girl out," Mitzy said, releasing Ray's waist and beaming at Strider. "It was so heroic!"

Ray glared at the DJ, fists itching. Strider raised his eyebrows, but before he could say anything their conversation was interrupted by a high-pitched screeching. Everyone's hands slammed over their ears and heads turned towards the main doors of the club. There, stumbling out onto the street, was a thin figure wreathed in deep red flames. Ray couldn't make out any features, but the silhouette in the center of the fire had the same horns as the drugged-up goat-eater he had turned away... right before leaving his post at the door.

"STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" shouted a voice, and a whole line of cops raised guns. "STOP THE PSIONICS AND GET ON THE GROUND!"

The head of the burning troll lifted, and a pair of eyes that blazed with solid, smoking red glared at the policemen. A mouth filled with the same eerie red light opened, and another unearthly screech filled the air. The flames around the figure grew brighter, and the tarmac under its feet began to bubble.

"THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING!" shouted the voice; Ray saw him, a plain-clothes cop in a leather jacket with long hair. "DROP THE PSIONICS AND GET ON THE GROUND OR WE WILL SHOOT TO KILL!"

A lash of fire snapped out, a blast of heat and red light that cracked across the front of the line of cops. Some jumped back or fell over, but others cried out and crumpled as the attack brushed past them. A core of light, so bright that it could no longer be called red at all, started to build in the air in front of the troll.

"HE'S GONNA BLOW!" someone shouted, and there was an ear-splitting crack as a shot rang out. The flame-wreathed silhouette froze, the fires flickering for a second, then light flared. Ray ducked, squeezing his eyes shut, and felt a hot wind rush past him with a second, quieter _WHOOMPH._

When he opened his eyes, the night seemed very dark, and it took Ray several long seconds to see that the bright fires had died back and that there was a dark, still body lying in the street in front of the club. He looked over at Mitzy and felt anger flare when he saw that she was turned towards Strider.

"What the hell just happened?" he asked, talking to nobody in particular and not really expecting an answer.

"Good question," said a voice behind him, and Ray turned to see a man in a slightly rumpled suit. The man pulled out a police badge and flashed it, his eyes flickering across them in swift assessment. "Detective Francisco."

"Hey, Detective," said Strider, sounding more tired than Ray had ever heard him. To his amazement, the DJ actually looked slightly wary; without the shades he really was much easier to read. "How's the family?"

"Doing well," the man replied, in a tone of voice that suggested any further questions would probably not be advisable. "Please turn out your pockets."

Ray started slightly, but the Detective was still looking squarely at Strider. The DJ, if anything, seemed even more puzzled than the people around him.

"Why?" he asked, folding his arms. His eyes narrowed, which made him look older. It was strange, actually; with his face uncovered, Strider looked much younger than Ray had always pegged him as being. 

"Because that little display back there was not an isolated incident," said a new voice, and they all turned again as a leather-jacketed cop as he strolled over. "Detective Sikes," he said to Ray and Mitzy as he passed, before stopping in front of Strider, too close, well within the other man's personal bubble. "Three cases in the last two weeks," he said quietly. "Psionics going into overdrive, melting down in public spaces so bad that shooting them was the only way to stop them from taking out a city block, and according to our tox reports every last one of them had traces of an unknown chemical in their system." He nodded towards the front of the club. "I'm willing to bet our parrotneck..."

"Pyrokinetic," Detective Francisco corrected.

"...fire psychic there has the same traces," Detective Sikes finished.

Ray's head was spinning with trying to process the information. A new drug? A way to weaponize psychics? Fuck, he knew it was a bad idea to just let all these goddamned aliens walk around with regular people!

Strider didn't seem nearly so fazed, tilting his head as he considered the information. "That seems like a reasonable conclusion," he said, saying his words slowly as if he was choosing each of them after careful thought. "But the fact that you're talking to me about it suggests that there's something else to this. Feel like sharing?"

"Actually, I was gonna ask you that, Strider," Detective Sikes said. "See, the interesting part is that we got here so fast on the strength of a tip-off. Someone gave us a call to say that the DJ at Rewind was selling some new drug to tr-Alternians. Know anything about that?"

Strider shook his head. "Nope. Sounds like a bad tip to me."

"Really?" The cop waved a hand towards the smoldering ruins of the club. "Because it's looking pretty solid from where I'm standing."

"Pockets, please," Detective Francisco added.

Strider looked between the two of them, eyes widening. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He took in their expressions and his eyebrows raised. "Shit, you really think I could do this, don't you?"

"Why the hell not?" Detective Sikes asked. "I've got five counts of endangering a minor that tell me exactly what kind of scumbag you are, and don't give me that insufficient evidence crap. We don't have to prove what you did to know you did it."

It was hard to tell in the dark, but Ray could have sworn that Strider turned a few shades paler, especially when he saw the stony glare Detective Francisco was giving him. "Turn out my pockets, huh?" he said. The cops nodded, and Strider dug his hands into his jeans pockets and started to pull things out. A lighter. A pocket-knife. A cellphone. Credit card. Loose change. Keys.

A memory struck Ray, a glimpse of something blue and gel-like. "Back pocket," he said, the words muffled by a cough when some ash caught in his dry throat. Both cops turned to look at him, and he coughed again to clear his voice. "Check his back pocket," he repeated, a little stronger. Strider gave him a strange look, like he'd gone nuts or something.

"Back pocket, Strider," said Detective Francisco.

"Sure," said Strider. reaching back. "Not like there's anything..." His voice trailed off, and for a moment Ray could see surprise cross the DJ's face. Then his hand came back around holding a tubular capsule of blue gel that shone with an almost luminescent light.

For a moment, no-one spoke, then Detective Francisco smiled without a trace of humor. "I wonder if we test that, will the results match the tox reports?" he asked, in a way that wasn't really a question.

Strider was staring at the capsule he was holding with an almost perfectly blank expression. "I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said this wasn't mine and I had no idea how it got there?"

"Not really," Detective Sikes said, stepping forward and pulling out a pair of handcuffs. "You gonna come quietly?"

Strider's eyes narrowed and flickered around the street. Noting exits, Ray realized. He was considering making a break for it.

Detective Francisco clearly saw the same thing. "If you run, I will personally ensure that you never see Dave again," he said, conversationally. Strider froze, then stiffly gave a single nod and held out his arms.

"Cuff me," he said, voice rough. Mitzy let out a small squeak and pressed herself up against Ray; the bouncer took the opportunity to wrap a protective arm around her, but didn't take his eyes off Strider as the man tipped the blue capsule into an evidence bag that Detective Francisco held out and let Detective Sikes cuff him.

"Come on, let's go," Ray whispered, and Mitzy didn't stop him from turning her and guiding them both away from the scene. Behind him, he could just hear Detective Francisco reading Strider his Miranda rights.

"Dirk Strider, you are under arrest for the possession and suspected distribution of a dangerous substance. You have the right to remain silent; anything you do say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult with an attorney and have them present during questioning; if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you..."

After everything that had happened that evening it was perhaps the strangest thing of all to Ray that this was how he learned Strider's first name.


	2. ==> Be The Pimp In The Crib

### CHAPTER ONE ==> Be The Pimp In The Crib

Dave Strider was doing just fine. Better than fine; he was the king of the swingers and he had the whole damn jungle bringing him coconuts. So what if there were a few small hiccups in the normally smooth flow of his life? He was a Strider. Taking things in stride was probably genetic; that was why he was so damn cool all the time, it was the special mutant genes kicking in. Swag like his couldn’t be naturally occurring. He was clearly a wildly successful secret government experiment, as was Bro… 

_Shit._ Years of practice at keeping up a poker face let Dave suppress his groan, but the social worker driving the car still glanced back when he dipped his head and stuck a thumb behind his shades to rub the corner of his eye. There was some grit in it or something.

 _Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Strider,_ he thought, smudging the drop of moisture off the pad of his thumb and into his jeans. He’d already embarrassed the both of them enough when the cops first came to the apartment, but at least that had been shouting and strifing. Sobbing was for chicks and trolls called Vantas and there was not a chance that anyone was going to see him do it even if hell froze over and pigs started flying and Elvis showed up in a flying saucer to announce his comeback tour.

“We’re here,” said the social worker, giving him an encouraging smile as they pulled up at the end of the ridiculously long drive. Dave couldn’t even summon the energy to flip him off; he wrestled the car door open before someone could do it for him and stumbled out, bag on shoulder, to look up at the place he would be staying until they got this mess sorted out and he could go back to happily living in constant terror of smuppet ambush once again.

Derse Mansion was bigger than he had expected, and smaller. Bigger because even knowing that Rose was wealthier than an oil Sheikh who just broke Monte Carlo he hadn’t really been able to picture what the Hollywood houses he saw on TV would look like in reality; smaller because compared to what he’d seen on Lifestyles of the Rich and Obnoxious the Lalonde family’s LA home was actually quite modest and compact. The fact that you could fit his home in it a dozen times over, not even counting the grounds, was just hard to process.

The social worker was talking again but Dave tuned it out. He didn’t need to hear any more people being sympathetic or telling him how happy he was going to be. There was some serious fucking irony to be found in the fact that they had moved to LA at least in part to fly under the CPS radar, and yet now Child Protection was all over their asses. Dave’s lip twitched in appreciation for the joke that was currently playing out all around him. The lip twitch became a full-blown smile when the social worker went to knock on the door and it opened, leaving the guy standing with one fist raised in the air like a dork, ready to knock on nothing. The girl on the other side of the door slipped past him with a smirk and nodded to Dave from the top step.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” said Rose, as if Dave was only paying a polite social call. “Mother is currently ensconced in the laboratory, but do allow me to extend our warmest welcomes in her stead.”

Dave nodded, once, and started up the steps. “Where’s the E.T entourage? You know I love you, sis, but you gotta remember that I’ve been living in the heart of trolltown. I’ll get homesick if I don’t see gray and then you’ll have to come visit me in hospital, pining away to nothing. I’ll spit grape seeds at you. It’ll be tragic.”

“Is there any particular reason you feel the need to engage in pseudo-discriminatory remarks or is that an underlying pathology?” Rose asked, nodding to the social worker and stepping to the side to let Dave enter the house first.

“Hey, I just wanna know where my new alien brosisters are at…” Dave’s voice trailed off as he got his first look at the inside of the house, and he whistled. “Shit, Lalonde, who do you have photos of and can I get copies?”

Rose chuckled. “You could have visited at any time, you know. You may never have lived here, but I know when Mother bought it that she was thinking of you and-“ She broke off, and Dave could have sworn that she was looking directly into his eyes even though he knew for a fact that his shades were only reflecting her own face.

The social worker coughed. “Excuse me, Miss Lalonde, but I really do need to speak to your Mom. There are still a few things to sort out before I leave him here.”

“Yes, of course,” said Rose, turning away and leaving Dave to seethe over being talked about like he wasn’t there. “This way, please.” She started off across the entrance hall at a brisk pace; Dave’s reactions were pretty good so he managed to fall in half a step behind, and although he didn’t look he let himself grin at the sound of the social worker jogging to keep up.

They passed through a kitchen that was gleaming with stainless steel and black marble surfaces, through a wooden door that looked like it lead to a cupboard, and down a half-dozen steps to a door that Dave was certain belonged in Area 51. It was made of solid metal, and the only features on it were a blocky biometric scanner in the center and a Skaialabs logo at the top.

Next to the door was another box, this one featuring a smooth silver button and a speaker. Rose held the button in, a ring of blue light around it lit up, and she leaned over the device.

“Mother, Dave is here with the social worker.” She released the intercom and turned around. “You should both step back. The security system responds aggressively to unauthorized personnel in the vicinity of the door.”

Dave blinked and took another look around the small, square area at the bottom of the steps. It seemed entirely featureless and unremarkable, but he backed up a couple of steps anyway. He knew that Jade’s Grandpa and his company did advanced weapons design, and there was no telling if this was Rose’s twisted sense of humor at play or whether there really was some kind of death-trap right in front of him. He almost jumped when he heard a faint hissing noise, but then the door started to swing open and he realized it had just been the sound of air escaping.

When the door opened he just barely had time to take in the sight of Doctor Lalonde in a white lab coat before he was being enveloped by the smell of iodine and breath mints and squashed into a pair of breasts that he very, very quickly labeled as “maternal”.

“Davey!” squealed a voice, and Dave was shoved back far enough to look up into the face of his biological mother. He’d seen her before, of course, both of them sneaking glances at one another during the Ringmaster trial and Karkat’s hearing, but he’d never wanted to know what Bro would say or do if he actually dared to talk to her. Up close, her face looked older, the fine lines of middle age showing on her skin. Her eyes were still young, though; seeing them, round and open and full of emotion, Dave felt a sudden stab of familiarity. Apart from the color, they were the exact same eyes he saw in the mirror each morning before he put on his shades.

“Oh, babbu, I’m so sorry,” his mother said, her voice dripping with so much _feeling_ that Dave barely managed to catch himself from sidling back away from her. “Don’t you worry, we’ll have you feeling right at home here, and I’m going to make sure my little Dirky has the bestest lawyers money can buy, and we can pretend like this is a really awesome little vacation and do some Mommy-Son bonding!”

Dave had no idea what Mommy-Son bonding might entail, but judging by the look on Rose’s face it was definitely not anything he wanted to face right now. Or ever, if he could help it.

“You know, Bro isn’t gonna accept any lawyer you send him,” he said, backing up another step and cursing inwardly when the woman followed. “He’s not needed anything from you since he was sixteen.” Bro hadn't had ever to say aloud how proud he was of that achievement. Dave had just grown up knowing it, like how he knew the sky was blue and summer was hot and Nick Cage movies were pure brown-stained ass.

The woman- his mother- stopped her advance and chuckled, tapping the side of her nose with a finger and almost poking herself in the eye. Dave noticed that her fingernails, while immaculately manicured and buffed, were short and free of polish. “That’s why we don’ tell him iss from me,” she stage-whispered. “You’re not gonna tell him, right, Davey?”

Dave thought about his brother, locked up on charges that were shaky enough to argue and strong enough to stand. "Tell him what?"

His mother laughed and before he could stop her, reached out and ruffled his hair.

"Atta boy," she said, eyes twinkling with something that Dave would have sworn was approval had Rose not repeatedly assured him that their mother was never sincerely proud of anything. "We'll totes talk once you're all settled in. Rosie, hun, can you do that while I talk to..."

She turned to stare at the social worker, eyes raking up and down the man in a way that was so blatantly checking him out that Dave shuddered. The man himself blushed, but held his ground.

"Alec Brody," he said, holding out a hand. Dave's mother cooed and slipped her arm around his, dragging the poor man up the stairs before he could object.

"Come on, Mr Brody, you can show me what you've got f'r me," Dave heard her saying as the door at the top of the stairs closed behind the two adults. He stared in mild shock at the door.

"Is she always-?"

"Infallibly," said Rose. "Come along. I suspect you will want to put that bag down soon."

Dave had been fine, but as soon as his sister mentioned it the damn thing suddenly had to start weighing a ton extra. He shifted the weight and shrugged his free shoulder. "Nah, I'm good. Studly Strider muscles and all that. But if you're that worried, I guess you could show me where I'm sleeping."

Rose gave him a knowing smile and headed up the stairs; Dave followed her back through the kitchen- noting his mother and the social worker sitting outside at a table by a sparkling pool- and back to the entrance hall, where she led him up to the second floor. Dave looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of any of his new housemates and failing.

"Sadly, we don't have a guest room," said Rose, stopping outside a closed door and resting her hand on it. "I'm afraid you'll have to share."

Dave shrugged. He'd been expecting as much; talking to both Rose and Jade on pesterchum every day, it would have been hard to miss how cramped their living situation had been for the past few months. He had known that his options were the couch or someone's floor, and given his preference for late nights and later mornings he figured the couch would be inconvenient for everyone.

Of course, since there was only one guy who actually lived here, it hadn't been hard to figure out who his roommate would be either.

"What the fuck are you doing hanging around outthide my room?"

Dave counted to three before he turned back towards the stairs, and found himself face-to-face with a very pissed-off psionic. Sollux was throwing off small sparks as he walked towards them, and Dave could see the twin glow of the other boy's eyes narrowing behind his bicolored shades.

"Heya, sunshine," he said. "I think you'll find that's _our_ room you're talking about." He stepped forwards and slung an arm around Sollux's shoulders, immediately causing the troll to shrink in on himself and try to pull back. "We are gonna have the best time," he said, staring straight into Sollux's eyes- not that the other boy could tell that. "We can paint each other's toenails and talk about boys all night long."

"What?" Sollux wriggled out from under his arm and looked imploringly at Rose, who sighed.

"Dave will be staying with us for an indeterminate length of time," she said, grabbing Dave's arm and dragging him back over to her side. He went easily enough; there would be more time to mess with Sollux later. "He needs a place to sleep other than the couch, so he will be sharing your room."

Dave wiggled his fingers at Sollux in a mocking wave. The troll turned an interesting shade of yellow. "Fuck, no!" he snapped. "I'm not having that wathte of oxthygen in my room! He'll trip over the wireth and break thomething! Altho, he'th an inthufferable prick!"

"Takes one to know one," Dave replied on reflex, lightning fast.

Red-blue sparks crackled and Sollux bared his teeth in a snarl; part of Dave's brain spent a few seconds wondering why he was so good at pissing off yellow-bloods before he remembered that he was actually pretty good at pissing off everyone who wasn't already his friend.

Rose cleared her throat pointedly, and the sparks died down, but Sollux kept up his death-glare. "He'th your human twin-brother," the psionic said, glowering briefly at Rose. "Why can't he thare with you inthtead of getting in my way?"

"Because the rest of us have already hosted a guest this year, for considerable lengths of time, I might add," said Rose, resting one of her hands on the door to the room in such a way that she would have to be shoved aside by anyone wanting to get in. "You got out of sharing with Eridan by fighting with him constantly and Gamzee insisted on staying downstairs with Karkat, but at this point it is only fair." She smirked, triumphant. "Besides, I cannot possibly share a room with Dave, as that contravenes human societal taboos. You cannot possibly ask me to do something so scandalous. You are of course welcome to ask Kanaya, but I suspect she is still not feeling too helpfully inclined towards you."

Sollux blinked. "What the fuck thort of taboo thtopth you from tharing a room with your hatchmate? You already thared a mammalian womb, what more ith there after that?"

Dave took a moment to thank whichever higher power had let this beautiful moment drop into his lap, leaned against the wall like he was the Midnight Cowboy, and let the surviving remnants of his Texan drawl come out as he said; "Well, see, she's a chick and I'm a dude, and according to some long-dead dumbasses who decided the rules for room arrangements the only reason a chick and a dude would share a room is if they were bangin' like bunnies."

"Of course, the situation is only exacerbated by our familial relationship," Rose added, taking smoothly over where Dave left off. "While brothers and sisters sharing space may be accepted as a temporary arrangement, over longer periods the inherent cultural suspicion of concupiscent relations overcomes any semblance of common sense and comes into conflict with the far more serious taboo of incest."

Sollux still looked confused, so Dave stepped in again. "That's when people who share genes start getting jiggity. Dancing the horizontal samba. Making the beast with two backs. Playing hide the sausage..."

"OKAY! I GET IT!" Sollux's eyes flared up briefly, then settled down as both Rose and Dave fell silent. "That'th completely thtupid, though," he added. "I mean, humanth might be fixthated on male-female pairth, but trollth aren't tho why would you athume it'th any leth likely for there to be sexth with the thame gender tharing?" He shot a glare at Dave. "Not that it'th likely in any way, thape or form," he added. Dave nodded and waved a hand in understanding, and Sollux rounded back onto Rose. "And if thith inthetht taboo ith real- which I don't think it ith, it thoundth thtupid and like thomething you made up to meth with me- then thurely DV ith leth likely to fuck you than me? Again, not interethted, on account of you being a mathive tool who ith platonically loathethome."

"Love you too, buddy," said Dave. "And you're right. We totally made up the incest taboo to mess with you. Definitely not a thing that can get you jail time." He looked over at Rose and tilted his head in what he hoped was a coy fashion. "Whaddya say, sis? How about a whirlwind romance and a crazy night of passion followed by marriage and babies ever after? Promise I'll treat you right."

Rose's mouth turned up into a disturbing little smile. "You are sharing with Sollux," she said calmly. "But thank you for opening up to me about your feelings. I look forward to really exploring your oedipal issues later; in the meantime, do try not to kill and or marry one another."

 _Ouch._ Dave winced as Rose turned and started to walk away, leaving the two of them alone by Sollux's room. Dave looked over at the psionic, who glowered back.

"Gonna leave me out here?" Dave asked, and Sollux sighed.

"Gueth not," he replied, and pushed the door open. "If you touch any of my thtuff I will kill you."

It was a sentiment Dave understood, and as his eyes adjusted to the gloom he found himself looking at a very familiar sight. Sollux, it seemed, ascribed to the same school of thought as he himself did when tidying- namely, don't. The room was piled with heaps of junk and clothing and ripe with the smell of unwashed nerd, although unwashed troll nerd was somewhat more tolerable than unwashed human nerd, at least if John's reaction to Dave's room last summer had been anything to go by. In the far corner, dual computer screens glowed red and blue with active screensavers, and Dave stepped over trailing wires as he followed Sollux in.

"Thecond bed ith there," said Sollux, pointing to a heap of computer parts and laundry that teetered half-way up the wall. Dave could just about make out the frame of a bed and the outline of a mattress creaking under the weight.

"Sollux," he said, and waited until the other boy had turned all the way around to face him before grabbing him into a painfully tight embrace. "I have found my people," he said, solemnly. _Check it out, Terezi. Are you proud of this coolkid or what?_

"Get the fuck off me!" Sollux yelled, trying and failing to wriggle free.

"You and I are brothers, sparky," said Dave. "I am never letting you g-OW!" He dropped the psionic and rubbed the reddening patch on his arm where he had just been jolted with blue energy. "Harsh. What did I ever offer you but my love?"

Sollux folded his arms and grinned in the smuggest expression Dave had ever seen on a sentient being. "Trutht me, that wath friendly. Keep your handth to yourthelf in future or you'll withh you were in prithon with your lother brother."

Dave stilled, inside and out. "Bro's no loser," he heard himself say, like the words were coming from someone else who was some way distant. "He's got me. And unlike some people, I don't try to hurt my family as soon as the going gets a little bit tough."

Sollux's smirk vanished, and the two of them stared at each other evenly. Dave saw sparks running across Sollux's head and hands, and felt his own fist clenching and unclenching. He wondered exactly how you won in a fight with a guy who could push a spaceship faster than light with his mind.

"Sollux!" called a voice from down the hall, and the psionic's head snapped to face the door. It was only a moment before he looked back, but that moment was enough to calm the tension- at least temporarily.

"That'th KN," said Sollux. "Thee'th with AA."

It took Dave a moment to translate the weird-ass nicknames, but then he nodded. "Better get going, then."

"Yeah," said Sollux. His eyes, which Dave still couldn't get over the strangeness of, narrowed behind his shades. "Touch my thtuff and you die," he promised, before turning on one heel and striding out the door, one hand pressed to his head and rubbing it as if he was trying to push something out through the skin.

Dave waited all of thirty seconds before he dumped his bag on a free corner of the bed- fuck cleaning all that shit up, he would see if he could bully _Thollucth_ into moving his crap later- and slumped into the computer chair. It was obviously Sollux's most prized possession, so clearly it was the best place to start utterly violating his room-mate's privacy.

He spent a productive couple of minutes changing both desktop wallpapers to screenshots of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, just so that Sollux knew he had been there, then he started to check out his usual sites. He'd had to leave his own computer back at the apartment and although he could have used his phone, why bother?

The Pesterchum icon sat snugly in the system tray, blinking yellow like the smug little temptress it was. Dave opened it and logged Sollux out without a second thought. Signing in as himself, he clicked on the first name in his contact list.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ghostyTrickster [GT] at 11:44 --   
TG: yo john

The response was immediate. He’d expected as much; John was usually up for talking online, even when he should be doing other things.

GT: hi dave!   
GT: how are you?

Dave hesitated; normally he would try to blow off what was bothering him, but John was his best bro. Besides, he’d stayed with them over the summer. He had the right to know what was going on with Bro.

TG: in a word   
TG: shitty   
TG: bro got his ass arrested last night so yours truly is currently chilling at casa lalonde waiting for the hellstorm to pass   
TG: its devils and damnation all up in this bitch right now

He drummed his fingers on the desk then stopped when they landed in something sticky and unidentifiable. Gross. At least he'd always tried to keep his desktop clean and free of biological waste.

GT: oh shit!   
GT: what did he get arrested for?   
GT: was it the smuppets?   
GT: it has to be the smuppets.

There was nobody around to see, so Dave snorted.

TG: it was not the fucking smuppets egbert   
TG: although they did not help matters when the cps came with cops to pick me up   
TG: mind you i also screwed that one right into the futon by trying to barricade myself in and inadvertently leading them to the entire strider family armory   
GT: you mean the fridge?   
TG: yes i mean the fucking fridge

Dave paused and rubbed a hand over his face. He hadn’t meant to snap at John. He also hadn’t meant to spill the beans on just how fucking dumb he had been last night, but hey, look, there were the words right there, sitting there blinking in all their damning glory.

There was a reason John was his best bro, though, and when he replied Dave was reminded what it was.

GT: you know i always wondered why you guys kept swords in there.   
GT: i mean sure, they fit and everything, but what about your food?

He could always trust John to treat stuff like it wasn’t a big deal, even when he was secretly trying not to freak the fuck out. Especially then, in fact. Dave took a deep breath and stepped up to the plate. Witty banter and ironic detachment, coming right up.

TG: you know nothing of our proud warrior heritage Egbert   
TG: we striders live on a diet of conflict and irony   
TG: the lamentations of our foes are our nourishment   
TG: and also we live on takeout because neither of us can cook worth a damn   
TG: all we need the fridge for is aj orange soda and shitty swords   
GT: well, i still think it’s pretty weird of you!   
GT: i’m sorry to hear about your bro, man. is it serious?

Dave was pretty sure John was more worried about him than Bro, although it was a safe bet the goofy-toothed idiot was fretting plenty about them both right now. Lying or dismissing the problem wouldn’t make his buddy feel any better, so Dave went with the truth.

TG: could be   
TG: he didnt do jack but it sure as fuck looks like he did   
TG: fortunately the arresting officers have been mad as hell at him for a coupla months now so we might have a case there

Pretty well put, Dave thought. He’d managed to keep the tone light, while telling John everything he needed to know.

GT: :( that sucks.   
GT: but hey, you’re staying with rose for a while! that's cool!   
GT: i can’t get over how you guys are twins.   
GT: it makes sense, but it doesn’t, if you know what i mean?

Dave rolled his eyes behind his shades. He did know what John meant because he had the same weird, dissonant feeling; Rose was his sister, but all too often he had to remind himself of that. They were friends, sure, but it wasn’t like John and Jade and their obvious sibling bond.

Of course, that didn’t excuse John’s hideous mutilation of the English language.

TG: nobody knows what you mean egbert   
TG: that sentence was doa   
TG: the paramedics are trying to save it but theres not much hope   
TG: defibrillating the shit outta that nonsense to try and get to some meaning   
TG: nope too late its beyond all help   
TG: someone get a priest in here stat   
GT: hehehe   
GT: you gonna be okay?   
TG: yeah sure   
TG: im always okay

For the first time since the cops had knocked on the apartment door, it felt true.

GT: oh, jade was online earlier looking for you.

Dave’s lip twitched at the sudden burst of fondness. He’d been talking to Jade at weird times ever since she took off back to Hellmurder Island, but never for long enough.

TG: time difference is a bitch   
TG: if you see her first tell her i’ll try and catch her when i can   
TG: but im stuck sharing with the amazing alternian spark plug and hes hella jealous with his tech   
TG: im hoping to open up negotiations for a technological threesome with this sexy desktop here   
TG: but he might legit kill me if i fuck up his computer   
GT: sollux, right?   
GT: karkat says he’s pretty attached to his tech.   
GT: oh, and also karkat and gamzee say hi!

Dave almost slammed his head into the desk. He was prevented from doing so by the fact that it would not have been particularly cool and detached of him, and also because of whatever the sticky stuff coating the surface of the wood was. Man, he hoped that was not anything to do with troll jizz.

TG: are they there right now   
TG: are you displaying our private conversation to your personal troll circus troupe

There was a brief pause followed by a line of random characters that looked suspiciously like two people fighting over a keyboard, then a reply in actual words that definitely were not John’s started appearing.

GT: YES, AND I WISH HE WOULD STOP.   
GT: GAMZEE NEEDS TO DO HIS HOMEWORK.   
GT: SINCE HE HAS THE ATTENTION SPAN OF A CONCUSSED FLUTTERBUG THIS IS THE EQUIVALENT TO AN ORBITAL WEAPONS PLATFORM FIRING ON THE MICROSCOPIC REMAINING FRAGMENTS OF ANY ASPERATIONS I MAY ONCE HAVE POSSESSED TO PREVENT MY MOIRAIL FROM BEING A COMPLETE ACADEMIC FAILURE AND AN EMBARRASSMENT TO US ALL.   
GT: JOHN IS YOUR HUMAN FRIEND. GET HIM TO SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Dave made a mental note to ask John for Karkat’s Pesterchum later. He missed messing with the grouchy asshole. Not that he was in the mood right now. He sent a quick message and to his relief, it was John who replied.

TG: if you get your ass away from the keyboard then we have a deal vantas   
GT: he says sure thing.   
GT: there were more words than that, but that was what he meant!   
GT: actually, i should probably go do homework too.   
GT: dad’s been worried about my grades lately.   
TG: its that chick you’re hanging round with dude   
TG: im trouble incarnate and even i think shes bad news

To tell the truth, he was actually a bit worried about John. Ever since the whole Ringmaster thing he’d been kind of _off._ His new not-a-girlfriend-honest wasn’t the only suspect decision he’d made in the last few months.

 _Yeah, big surprise there,_ Dave reminded himself. _You’re having enough trouble handling Bro being arrested as it is, and you know he’s innocent._ John’s family history was a mess he was not going to hurt his head with right now.

GT: bluh, you sound like dad!   
GT: haley’s just fun to hang out with, is all.   
TG: yeah whatever man   
TG: not like your little derp brain is trying to figure out a way to second base   
TG: or any base

Dave hesitated. It wasn’t like he was all needy or desperate or anything, but…

TG: so this homework   
TG: you still gonna be online   
GT: yeah, just a bit quieter.   
GT: that okay?

Dave let out a small sigh of relief.

TG: sure

<You seem more settled now.>

“Holy shit!” Dave jerked back and nearly fell out of the chair when it wheeled into the desk. The girl blinked blank white eyes and flickered, appearing briefly to de-age into a little kid before reappearing as the same age as him.

<Hello. You must be Dave.> The words appeared in his head in a female voice, but the girl’s lips didn’t move and he definitely heard nothing with his ears. Looking at her he could see her face clearly, every ridge on her horns and every curl of hair perfectly defined, but somewhere around her knees her skirt started to look fuzzy around the edges, fading away like a half-remembered dream until she was left with no feet at all.

“That’s me,” he said, straightening in the chair as he realized who he was dealing with. “And you must be Aradia. Tav hasn’t stopped talking about you yet.” At least, not as far as Dave knew; his contact with his best friends had been under serious scrutiny and limitation ever since…

<You were with Tavros when he came to save me.>

… since that, yeah. Weird how responsible cop parents didn’t want him around their impressionable kids after they all nearly got shot pulling crazy heroic-rescue stunts. They couldn’t really enforce it at school, but Christmas break had been a serious downer even given Bro’s attempts to cheer things up with an epic ambush war. And shit, now he was thinking about Bro again.

<Thank you,> Aradia added. Dave’s head shot up and he found himself staring at an impassive face that, now he thought about it, was far too similar to the still, pale coma patient he had already seen. Shouldn’t her face move more? Or at least have some color in it?

<There is someone downstairs that you want to see,> Aradia said. Her hair was drifting around her as if caught in a wind. In slo-mo. Dave couldn’t not stare at it. <You may come and visit me later.>

She was gone between one blink and the next, taking with her a sense of chill and pressure that Dave hadn’t even noticed was there. He spent a few moments taking deep, steadying breaths; despite everything Rose had told him over the last few months about telepathic communication and mental image projections, and utterly disregarding the fact that Aradia was alive and recovering, he felt like he had just met a ghost.

"Fuck," he muttered, and pushed himself away from the desk. He might as well go and see who Casper the Friendly Alien was talking about; logging out of Pesterchum but leaving the program open to annoy Sollux, Dave set out for the front door.

As soon as he was in the corridor he could hear voices, but it wasn't until he reached the stairs that he could see who was there. In the entrance hall, talking to Kanaya, were a pair of familiar faces. Dave fought to suppress his sudden rush of anger. Once was an isolated incident, but he didn’t want to lose his shit in front of the same people twice in two days. That would not be cool at all. 

“Detectives,” he said, forcing himself to descend the stairs at a steady pace rather than, say, turning and bolting back into Sollux’s room. “Nice of you to visit. As you can see, I am now one hundred percent safe from all nefarious plush rump-related shenanigans, and entirely free to be screwed up by contact with new and allegedly less criminal family members. Unless you’re here to drag Mom Lalonde away for Grand Theft Personal Space, in which case I recommend some sort of pole. Possibly a crowbar.”

“Dave,” said Matt, turning to him. The guy at least looked sheepish; George was still giving him the stink-eye from the other side of Kanaya. “You know it wasn’t anything personal, arresting your brother, right? We were just the guys who got the tip…”

“Tell it to the lawyers,” said Dave. He couldn’t bring himself to walk any closer, so he dropped down onto one of the steps and lounged back. “And I’ll tell them about how you were blaming him for your kids being big damn heroes a few months back. You have heard of a conflict of interest, right? Because I’m pretty sure that counts. Good luck trying to pin anything on him.” He stopped when he heard the snarl in his own words, biting his tongue so it couldn’t betray him.

It seemed like his silence achieved the same thing, though, because Matt and George shared a look and then the suited detective took a step forwards. “We came here to talk to Doctor Lalonde and Ms Maryam,” George said, his face not betraying any emotion. Dave wished he could be so sure of his own expression. “Our own labs are having trouble analyzing the substance we found on your brother- which is the same one as the new drug- and as Skaialabs are the leading experts on Alternian biology, biochemistry and neurology, we were hoping that they would agree to work with Doctor Frankel. We are not here to interrogate you, or make further accusations against your family.”

Dave stared at him silently and wondered if Tavros would mind his father coming home with a broken nose.

“Actually,” said Matt, looking from Dave to his partner and back again, “There was one other thing.”

Dave was about to snort, because he knew they weren’t just going to leave him alone, but his resentment died when he saw the small smile that Kanaya was fighting to hide. From what Rose said, vamp-troll wasn’t the kind of dame to laugh at another’s misfortune, which meant-

“No fuckin’ way,” he whispered, as his ears picked up the faint sound of someone trying to cackle quietly from the other side of the living room. He was scrambling to his feet before he knew it, racing down the stairs and towards the open archway without a second thought for the two cops in his way.

“’Rezi, that had better be you doing an impression of the Wicked Witch of the West, because I am so fucking far from Kansas right now and I didn’t even bring my ruby shoes...”

The stifled giggles became all-out howls of laughter, and Dave couldn't stop himself from smiling when he saw Terezi sprawled across the window seat and Tavros smirking at him from the warm patch of sunlight just in front of her.

"Finally let you out to see me, huh?" he said, strolling over to join them like he didn't want to just run and vault over the couch.

"Mom, um, thought that maybe, it was time, given what, has happened," said Tavros. "She yelled, quite a lot, actually."

Dave swallowed the lump that tried to expand in his throat. "Me? Nah, I'm fine. Glad Mrs F saw that you were wasting away without me, though; dunno what you were gonna do if you went much longer without your dose of Vitamin Dave." He dropped into the window seat by Terezi's feet, and leaned back so his elbows were resting on the sill. "How about you, 'Rezi? Did Cathy let you go or did you bust out of the joint?"

"I asked Matt if I could come," said Terezi, pulling herself up into a sitting position and sniffing the air near Dave. "Tavros and I have both done our time, coolkid; we've been rehabilitated into honest citizens. Not like you and your flagrant criminality."

"Bro didn't do it," said Dave, a little sharper than he intended. "I mean, I know he's not exactly the poster boy for the eagle scouts of America. Shit, he could probably win awards for bending the law into pretzels and taking huge gut-busting bites outta those suckers, but that's just it. He never would've done something they could pin on him, not like dealing some dangerous troll drug out of the club where he works. That's not even ironically dumb."

Terezi's grin faded, and she reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. Her head was facing somewhere just over his left shoulder, but Dave knew it didn't matter that she couldn't see his face. Terezi didn't need eyes to see him more clearly than anyone he'd ever met.

"I know," she said quietly. "And don't worry. We've got this."

Surprised, Dave looked over at Tavros, who gave him a grin that was so full of mischief he had to have swiped it from Egbert. "You helped, when I needed you," his friend said. "I think, that it is only fair, to return the favor." He glanced over to the hall, where his adoptive father was shaking hands with Dave's mom. "Even at risk, of maybe never being not grounded, ever again."

Solemnly, Dave held out his fist, and received two bumps in return; one hesitant, and one slightly off-kilter. Tavros' smile grew a little wider, Terezi started to cackle again, and for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours Dave let himself relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I begin the posting! :D I expect the next update to be next week- probably Saturday the 5th of April. I'm trying to give myself plenty of time because some of the edits are still a bit not-really-done on this one. :/
> 
> In accordance with my cunning plans (and to give myself something a little more interesting to put in this section) I'm gonna be putting links to music I think a character might listen to in the notes for "their" chapters. If you have any thoughts on what a character's fave music might be, shout up! I love different points of view on this one!
> 
> For Dave, the suggestion that I liked best was definitely [Nicki Minaj [Caution: NSFW]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kXFcr6oy5dk), so thanks to Aryashi for suggesting that one. I wouldn't have found it myself. :)
> 
> (He claims it's an ironic love. It's not.)
> 
> (I totally chose the pinkest video I could find.)


	3. ==> Be The Queen At The Castle

### CHAPTER TWO ==> Be The Queen At The Castle

Feferi Peixes stepped out of the limo into air that stabbed her lungs like an icy dagger. After years spent living on Grandpa's island and in LA, she had grown used to warmth. Her days on this world had been hot and bright, her nights balmy and humid, but this far north winter was cold and not quite over yet. Shivering, the girl pulled her fur-lined coat closer around her and was silently grateful for the layer of subcutaneous fat that was helping to keep her warm. She might have shed most of it at some point in the last couple of years, but she was still a seadweller, and the depths of Alternia's oceans were colder than the bitter skies of Earth.

Eridan clambered out after her. "Holy shit," he said, his voice muffled by the scarf that he had pulled over his nose and mouth. "I always figured humans were missin' some crucial synapses in their heads but this is fuckin' preposterous."

"It's n-not th-that b-bad," said Jade, poking her head out of the limo. Feferi could hear her teeth chattering. "M-maybe it'll s-snow and w-we c-can h-have a s-snowball f-fight!"

Feferi heard Eridan mutter something that was too muffled to make out, but before she or Jade could ask for clarification a human man in a black suit and bow tie opened the door to the building in front of them. The architecture was unusual, particularly in a place for someone to live; if Feferi had to say what it reminded her of, she would have had to choose the house on Grandpa's island. It wasn't the same at all, of course- there were no towers on this building, and the rooms that seemed to have windows instead of walls were different to say the least- but something about it just seemed similar, deep down in her gut. It was certainly nothing like Derse Mansion, which was the only other home she could think to compare it to.

The front door and the wall around it were actually a window, too, and Feferi could see inside to a white-carpeted room with cozy red couches arranged around a square fireplace in the center. Flames were burning merrily, alien but inviting. Feferi smiled at the man who had opened the door and said: "Hello! I believe we're expected?"

The man nodded. "Indeed, miss," he said, stepping aside. "Please come in. I am the butler; you may call me Greene." He watched impassively as the three of them rushed in, and while Jade stood in the doorway and called to Bec. The large dog finished romping around the car and raced over, blunted claws clacking on the tile floor of the entrance. Feferi could feel under-floor heating through her shoes, and smiled as her human sister crouched down to fuss over her pet.

"Typical. A course that furry fuckin' monstrosity would like it out there," Eridan said. Without looking up Jade punched him in the arm, and Feferi made a mental note to fill Nepeta in later. She had started talking regularly to her on Pesterchum ever since Tavros had mentioned that she might enjoy the green-blooded girl's company. He'd been right, too; they had talked about loads of different things in the past weeks. Trying to work out what quadrant Jade and Eridan were flirting in was a regular game for them by now.

"Refreshments will be made available shortly," said Greene, holding out his hands in a gesture that baffled Feferi until she realized that he was offering to take her coat. Not wanting to offend him, she shrugged out of it and passed it over. The butler took it and those of the others in turn. "Will there be anything else?" he asked, looking at the three of them as they slipped their shoes off on the mat by the door. The tiles really were heated from underneath; Feferi wiggled her toes in delight, stretching the webs between them.

"That's it, thanks!" said Jade, grabbing Bec by the collar and leading her dog towards the couches. Greene nodded and strode off towards a wood-paneled door that blended almost seamlessly into the wall. Feferi admired the architecture- human design was so polished- but Eridan watched him go with narrowed eyes.

"What's wrong?" Feferi asked him, walking across to the carpet and dropping down into a couch next to Jade. It was squishier than she had expected, and a glub of surprise slipped out when she was almost eaten by the cushions.

"I don't like it," Eridan replied, pacing along the length of the other couch. "What if we gotta leawe in a hurry?"

"Then we ask for our coats back, silly," said Jade, grinning at him over the back of the sofa.

"But what if they don't wanna giwe them back?"

Feferi rolled her eyes. "Eridan, you're fishing for trouble. Nobody's our anenome here; Grandpa would have warned us if there was something teribubble to watch out for!"

"Yeah? So where is he?" asked Eridan, leaning over the back of the couch and scowling at the fire. Feferi hadn't ever seen a fireplace like that before; it was black and heavy but not enclosed, the chimney suspended over it from above. She was definitely going to get a closer look at it once she was settled in, but right now she had to deal with Eridan.

"Why are you so worried by all this?" Feferi asked, trying to be patient. Not that it was her job to do that, but after the way he'd thrown himself off that balcony to save her she felt she owed him a chance. She couldn't be his quadrant, but before they'd ever had any kind of romantic entanglement they had been friends. Now that she'd seen the hints of that earnest little wiggler still in there it was easier to forgive him for being such a stubborn limpet about other things.

Eridan waved a hand at the glass walls, the barren trees to the front of the house and the glittering, bitterly cold ocean behind. "We're out in the middle a nowhere, with people what we don't know, after there's been more than one person tryin' to kill us. How can you _not_ be worried?"

Jade shook her head. "The security checks out, and Grandpa..."

"Ain't here!" Eridan finished, claws digging into the leather covering of the couch.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that, my boy," said a familiar voice from behind Feferi.

"GRANDPA!" Jade bounced over the back of the couch and into the arms of the old human who was standing on the other side of the room. Bec charged after her, barking in doggy glee. Feferi was almost as fast running around the couch rather than vaulting over it, and arrived in time to get pulled into a big, warm, three-person-and-one-dog hug.

"And how are my favorite girls?" asked Grandpa eventually, releasing the hug so he could step back and beam down at both of them.

Feferi looked to Jade, who hadn't let go of her Grandpa's hand. "Missed you," she said, in a voice so small that Feferi might not have caught the words at all without her superior royal-blooded hearing. Then Jade scowled and slapped the old man in the arm. "I can't believe you just left us in LA for months! What were you doing!?"

"Ah, well that's the surprise, isn't it?" Grandpa said. He tried to take a step towards the couches, and was brought up short when he walked into Bec. "Hello there, boy!"

Bec barked at him once, sharply, and the old human chuckled and crouched down to fuss the dog. "Did you miss me too, you daft old thing? You'd best have been keeping an eye on these sprightly youngsters for me!" He straightened, and as he looked up he locked eyes with Eridan; the two of them stared at one another for several seconds before Eridan snorted and ducked his head.

Grandpa leaned over to Feferi. "He seems a mite upset with me," he stage-whispered. To be fair, Feferi thought he probably meant to whisper properly, but Grandpa wasn't very good at quiet and even if he had been Eridan had better hearing than most humans. Her fellow seadweller stiffened at the words.

Truthfully, Feferi was a little hurt herself, and the bitter edge came through in her words as she defended her friend. "Some reely danger-rays things happened whale you were gone," she said, pulling back from the man and sitting down next to her friend. "And we tried, but we couldn't reach you! We didn't hear _anyfin_ except for when _you_ called _us,_ and the card you sent at Christmas."

Grandpa shuffled his feet, and one hand came up to twiddle with the ends of his mustache. "I don't know what to say, except that I'm dashed sorry," he said, walking around Bec and going to settle on the couch nearest Eridan. "Sorry to you, too, lad. I didn't mean to abandon the lot of you, but there was something I absolutely had to have a nose at and it rather required me to be incommunicado for a bit."

"What's that gotta do with anyfin?" Eridan asked, scowling at the floor and only glancing up to check on Feferi and Jade as they sat back down. "You know Fef coulda died? An' we both broke up with Sol."

"I didn't know that," said Grandpa. He reached out to put an arm around Eridan, then pulled it back when the boy shrugged it away. "I heard about the attempt, but only that you were all alive and well. I rather thought that I could trust Roxy with the rest."

"She did her best," said Jade, petting Bec's head where it rested on her thigh. "But she's not our Grandpa."

Feferi was expecting the old man to say something, but instead he spent a minute or so twirling his mustache again. The silence dragged out into something that was uncomfortable by any standards, and finally Feferi couldn't take it any more.

"So now you're back, can you tell us what you were dugong?" she asked. "And what it has to do with Crockercorp offering to sponsor the Integration Fund?"

"Yeah, why'd they inwite us out to this dump?" Eridan added. "An' why'd you insist we come?"

Grandpa sighed and settled back in his seat. Bec whined and took his head off Jade's knee, trotting across the floor to sit by the old man instead. Grandpa scratched at his ears and stared into the fire.

"It started with the Ringmaster business," he said, finally, and his gaze turned to Jade. "Learning that you were his daughter brought up some old family matters that I had to attend to, and I'm rather afraid that they concern you, too."

Jade leaned forward, frowning in confusion. "I don't understand, Grandpa. I thought you didn't have any other family than me?"

The old man sighed and twiddled with his mustache again. Feferi was starting to think that it was a sign of nervousness, although she had never seen it before. Then again, she had never seen Grandpa hesitate before, either.

"Jade, my dear, I was born into a very large family," said the old man, still keeping his focus level on his adopted child. "I have simply chosen not to associate with them for many, many years."

"Why not?" Jade asked, folding her arms and slumping back into her own couch.

"Differences of opinion," Grandpa said. "Ones that do not change the fact that I have a twin sister, or that once I had two nieces. Neither of them are still with us, sadly, but I heard enough from the family to know that they both had children before they passed. Two sets of twins, in fact- they do tend to swim in the old gene pool for us."

"Is this goin' somewhere?" Eridan asked. He was pouting again; Feferi wished he would stop doing that. It didn't do anything good for his face.

Grandpa shifted in his seat. "Well, that's the bally thing of it, you see," he said, and his expression when he looked at Jade was anything but happy. "My one niece, she cut off ties with the family before she died, and there were some damned bad circumstances. I never knew what happened. Not until this summer."

Jade let out a small squeak, her eyes growing into two round 'O' shapes behind her glasses. "Bella?" she asked. Eridan looked up sharply, and it took Feferi a few confused seconds of thought to remember the name of the Ringmaster's lover and first victim.

Grandpa nodded, and Bec trotted back over to push his nose into Jade's hands. Jade stared at her dog as if she'd never seen him before in her life, then reached out to pet his head and ears.

"So you're my... Great-Uncle?" she asked, the words coming out slowly. She was staring down the old man now, something incomprehensible burning behind her gaze. Feferi felt like an intruder and tried to quietly vanish into the cushion.

"You can still call me Grandpa, my dear," the elder Harley said quietly. "If you'd rather."

Jade chewed at her lip and Feferi shared a glance with Eridan, who looked as confused as she felt. She didn't understand what was happening in front of her. On an intellectual level, she knew that genetic relationships were important to humans, but both Jade and Grandpa were acting like knowing that they had a genetic relationship- even if it was a confusing one where you had to go back three ancestors on Jade's end- changed something, and maybe not in a good way.

Feferi was glad her people had the Mother Grub. Things were much simpler with slurry.

She was about to ask exactly how Jade and Grandpa's human family worked now, but before she could she caught sight of the door Greene had gone through earlier. It had opened to let a human woman walk into the room, placing her feet carefully so as to walk without noise. Eridan had spotted her too, and noticing two seadwellers staring her way the woman smiled and gave them a nod. Her high-heeled, pointed ruby shoes clicked on the tiles and sank into the carpet as she strode over to stand behind Grandpa.

Jade saw her before the woman had made it all the way, and her mouth fell open in a delicate, human way. Feferi couldn't really blame her for being surprised, because the strange woman was certainly the sort to draw attention. She held herself with a bearing that Feferi wanted to call regal, and from many, many lectures with Kanaya enough had sunk in for her to note that the woman's skirt suit was both well-tailored and striking. Bright red accents were splashed almost like human blood across the white cloth, and white-gray hair as wild and long as Jade's was strapped back away from a face that could command armadas.

"Betty Crocker," said the woman, holding out a beautifully-manicured, red-nailed hand to Jade. She smiled, the edges of her eyes crinkling. "But you can call me Nanna."

Wordlessly, Jade took her hand and shook it. Face to face, Feferi could spot the similarities between them easily; the hair was the most obvious, but the tip of Jade's nose was the same shape as Ms Crocker's, and they had the same long, slim-fingered hands.

The handshake lasted for a second or two before Ms Crocker pulled herself forwards and wrapped Jade up in a close hug. Eridan shot forwards, lips pulling back as he started to growl. Feferi grabbed his shoulder and hauled him bodily into the seat beside her, then glared at him until she was sure he wasn't going to do anything completely stupid in the near future. He really, really needed a proper moirail, before he started thinking she was flirting pale with him.

When the hug broke apart, Ms Crocker turned to face Feferi and Eridan, her smile no less bright. "And of course, it's a pleasure to meet the Heiress and her friend," she said, walking over with her hand extended. “We shall have to talk about what I can contribute to your campaign.”

“We shore will!” Feferi took her outstretched and gave an enthusiastic shake; Grandpa had made sure she understood the social rituals before she had started meeting people she needed to use them on, but she did have a little fun with overly energetic handshakes.

To her surprise, Ms Crocker was just as vigorous a hand-shaker, and the two of them broke apart after several seconds to share a smile. The older woman turned to offer her hand to Eridan, who managed to take it and give it a civil tug before retreating back to the depths of the couch.

“Thank you so very much for coming,” Ms Crocker said, casting a small smile at Grandpa. “I can’t tell you how delighted I was to hear that my brother had expanded the family; we were all a little worried about him being lonely in his golden years, and knowing that he has you with him is a great relief to us.”

“Betty,” said Grandpa, mustache twitching. “You’ll embarrass the sprogs.”

From the smirk on the woman’s face, Feferi suspected that had been the idea.

“What about John?”

Jade’s question rang out in the suddenly quiet room; the human girl was perched on the edge of the cushions, one hand wrapped around Bec’s collar, the other gripping the arm of the couch. Ms Crocker’s face fell, and she walked over to the couch. Jade scooted away from her when she sat down, but Ms Crocker didn’t make any attempt to reach out to her granddaughter, instead smoothing her skirt then resting her hands palm-down on her legs.

“Of course I want to meet him too, darling,” she said, looking directly into Jade’s eyes. “But John has his father for family, whereas you have my brother. No matter how close we become- and I do hope to become his Nanna, too- he will always be someone else’s little boy.” She smiled, the gesture creasing her face along lines already etched into the skin. Feferi wondered if that was where they came from; she didn’t think Alternians got wrinkles, but human skin was softer. Maybe it dented over time. “Besides, as I understand it, he has a rather irrational dislike for my corporation. What was that word he uses to refer to me?”

Feferi saw Jade’s lips quirk up into an involuntary smile. “Batterwitch,” she said.

“Yes, that was it. Probably best to give him a little more time, hmm?” said Ms Crocker, returning the grin as it spread across Jade’s face. “Actually, my dear, I was rather hoping that you might help me talk him around. Break the news gently, as it were.”

Jade nodded, relaxing back into the couch. “Sure, I can do that!” She studied the other woman; Bec sniffed at Ms Crocker, and sneezed.

It was at that exact moment that Feferi realized something, and everyone looked at her as she glubbed and bounced on the couch. “This is so exciting!” she said, grinning from ear to ear. “Jade, you’ve got an Ancestor! And she’s frondly!” Her bouncing slowed as a second thought occurred to her. “Oh! Maybe Grandpa can be John’s offishal Ancestor instead of the Ringmaster! Wouldn’t that be waterful!”

Eridan snorted. “Humans don’t do Ancestors,” he said.

“Close enough,” said Feferi, flicking his fin in reproach.

Ms Crocker chuckled. “Well, I don’t know how it works with Alternians, but if either of you two kids need an ancestor, I’m happy to be your Nanna too!”

Feferi’s smile faltered, and Eridan’s expression grew stormy. “How fuckin’ dare you,” he said, tensing his hands into claws. “How dare you ewen think a tryin’ to take the place a our Ancestors? You think I’m gonna choose you ower the troll what gawe me my destiny? You think Orphaner Dualscar is gonna be upstaged by some crinkly old brown monkey bitch? I ain’t newer been so insulted in all the time since I was hatched, you-“

He was cut off with a crack as Jade surged out of the couch next to them and slapped a hand over his mouth. Feferi's eyes widened at the sight of the soft human fingers, pressed within fractions of an inch of Eridan's teeth.

“Use your manners, tuna brain! Especially when you’re talking to my Nanna!”

Eridan retreated in shock, pushing himself into the back of the couch. His mouth opened and closed a few times like a beached fish, lips brushing against Jade's palm. Feferi ignored the way her face was burning with embarrassment- _so pale!_ She was telling Nepeta as soon as she got the chance- and turned to Ms Crocker.

“I’m sorry about Eridan,” she said, thinking as she did that the apology sounded worn out after so many uses. “Ancestors are reely important to us culturally, though; it’s kind of a cool chroma thing, but anyone who puts any stock in Ancestors knows that you don’t get to pick and choose. Even if you absolutely _hate_ them and think they’re _awful,_ they’re still your Ancestor!” She cast another glance at her sulking friend, still locked in a glaring match with Jade. “And Eridan is reely proud of being Dualscar’s Descendant.” She wrinkled her nose. She'd never seen what was so great about Dualscar, herself.

“I can see that,” said Ms Crocker, and for a moment Feferi was certain that she heard steel in the woman’s voice. Then the old woman smiled, and it was gone. “I apologize for being so insensitive. Why don’t I give you the grand tour of the place, and then you can all get settled in before we eat?”

“Oh! That sounds great!” said Jade, stepping away from Eridan to stand by her Ancestor. “This is a big house, right? Where are we going to be sleeping? Do you have a boat?”

Ms Crocker laughed. “I have more than one boat, darling. Come on, we can start with the dock and work our way up to the library.” She put an arm around Jade’s shoulders and started to lead her away, looking back over her shoulder to the rest of the group. “Come on, sweethearts- I don’t want you getting lost in my house!”

Grandpa chuffed, blowing at the ends of his mustache. “Come on, you whippersnappers, help an old man up,” he said, waving his arms out. Feferi grabbed one and Eridan got the other; between them, they hauled him to his feet with no effort at all, and followed their hostess out through the door in the wood-paneled wall.

Jade and Ms Crocker were chatting non-stop as they walked; Feferi let herself drop back, examining the rooms for herself as they passed through them. The whole house was neat, everything tucked into its own place as if it never left it. Even in the kitchen- which was the biggest room, large enough for a whole army of chefs- every last pastel-pale surface was spotlessly clean. Eridan checked the fridge, though, and when Feferi looked over his shoulder she could see that it was stocked with food, some of it in jars and bottles and tubs that had clearly been opened and used.

At no point in their walk did they see anyone else in the house, not even Greene, but Feferi could smell traces of other humans in their path and her ears were picking up people moving about in other rooms. Twice she heard people in the next room over running out moments before they walked in, and she wondered aloud why all the people who worked here were avoiding them.

Ms Crocker gave her a startled look. “That's their job, dear,” she said. “They're not supposed to be seen unless we need something.”

“Weird,” muttered Eridan under his breath. Feferi had to agree; the idea of having people in your hive and not keeping an eye on them made her scales itch!

At the back of the house, overlooking the sea, there was a glass-roofed staircase that cut down through the rock and at the bottom, protected by a rocky cavern in the cliff, was a dock. Three yachts of varying sizes loomed over them as Feferi rubbed her arms and watched her breath mist in the air.

“We can go sailing tomorrow if you would like, my dear,” said Ms Crocker, beaming at Jade as she ran between the boats with Bec on her heels. She looked over at Grandpa. “Have you ever taken them sailing before?”

Grandpa nodded. “Once or twice, old girl,” he said. He reached out and rested a hand on Eridan’s back. “This young fellow here has quite the set of sea-legs, you know!”

"Is that so?" Ms Crocker looked pleased by the news. "I'm surprised. I wouldn't have thought someone adapted to live underwater would have much use for sailing."

Eridan scowled at her. "And what would you know about it? For your information, I liwed on a wrecked ship for the first four sweeps a my life. I had a whole collection a boats and the smallest one a the lot was bigger'n any a these leaky tubs you got here."

"Eridan!" Feferi said, edging herself in between the other seadweller and Ms Crocker. "I'm so sorry!" she said. Ms Crocker waved a hand negligently.

"It's no trouble," she said, smiling and turning back to Jade.

Feferi waited until the woman was out of earshot, then scowled at Eridan. "Waterever's _wrong_ with you?" she asked, whispering where she wanted to shout. "She's Jade's Ancestor, and I'm shore she'll want to kelp us with the fund- I know you know better than to upset her, so why are you being so horribubble?"

Eridan shifted and glanced past her shoulder. "Bec," he said quietly. Surprised by the answer- she had been expecting angry denial, or sulking- Feferi looked back over at the dog. He was still following Jade, a big furry mound of white that shambled around his mistress and pressed against her side for attention.

"What about him? He seems fin to me," said Feferi, turning back to Eridan.

"Yeah? You noticed how he's actin' towards Crocker?"

Feferi glanced back again, just long enough to confirm her first impression. "Eridan, he's not even looking at her!"

"Yeah, and he ain't looked at her once since that first sniff,” said Eridan, a note of triumph in his voice- although he kept his words quiet. “Only person he ignores like that is me, and that's on account a how he hates my guts."

"So? Maybe Bec does ignore you, but you're not so bad!" Feferi followed his gaze over to Ms Crocker, whose hand was resting on Jade's shoulder. The two were laughing about something. "Maybe she just smells of somefin he doesn't like."

"Yeah," Eridan said, smirking. "Herself."

"You're being paranoid," Feferi told him, folding her arms. "And I'm not puffing up with it for one moor minute! Grandpa!" She turned to where her human lusus was standing, a short distance away. "Tell Eridan that your sister isn't trying to net us into some neferryous scheme!"

Grandpa's eyebrows raised. "Is that what you're thinking, young man?" he asked, petting his mustache.

"Yeah, pretty much," said Eridan. Grandpa glanced over at Ms Crocker, whose back was still turned, then took two swift paces over to them. Feferi was shocked by how fast his smile vanished.

"Ask her about the campaign," he whispered, and before she could question further Grandpa had wheeled away and was walking over to where his sister was showing Jade the name, Inspiration, painted on the side of the middle yacht.

Feferi looked at Eridan, who folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. Sighing, she wheeled around and stalked across the wooden dock to where the humans were standing.

"Excuse me, Ms Crocker- Nanna?"

The woman turned around, smiled at her with lips that were lacquered an impossibly bright red. "What is it, darling?"

Feferi smiled back and was suddenly reminded of her conversation with the Snowman, months earlier. "I was just wondering if we could discuss the support you mentioned, for the Integration Fund? I hate to press you on it, but with the Proposition going to the Houses we need as strong a lobby as we can put together-"

"No, dear, of course I understand," said Ms Crocker, and for a moment Feferi was relieved. Only for a moment, though. "But I'm afraid that I wasn't entirely honest earlier. There are some conditions for my support."

"See, here we go," said Eridan, stepping up beside Feferi as her blood-pusher sank in her thorax. "Let me guess, you want some kind a exclusiwe deal on biotech research? Or you got some belief you want us to tack on to our political agenda?"

"Nothing so crass, I assure you," said the woman, giving Eridan a cold stare. "Crockercorp is and shall continue to be a successful competitor in any field it chooses, without any need to rely on such maneuvering." She paused, then with a heavy sigh turned to Jade. "Jade, my darling, I need you to understand that in my lifetime, I have lost too many people. My dear husband, my two beautiful girls... my grandchildren have been the only thing that has seen me through it all, but you all grow up so fast! Discovering that you and your brother are still alive is a gift, a wonderful miracle, and I don't want to waste a moment of it."

"Well, I don't want to either!" said Jade. A frown grew on her face. "But what does that have to do with the funding?"

"Because my condition, darling, is that I will only provide financial support for the Alternian Integration Fund in exchange for full custody of you." Ms Crocker reached out and tapped the end of Jade's nose with one finger, seemingly oblivious to the shocked expressions all around her. "Selfish of me, I know, but I'm an old woman and I think I'm allowed some selfishness. It's not as if you would never see the rest of our family again, and in a few years you'll be old enough to strike out on your own as it is!"

As one, all three teenagers glanced over at Grandpa. Feferi saw the grim look on his face, and realized that the old man had known all along that this was coming.

"You don't have to answer right away," said Ms Crocker, drawing their attention back to her. "But please, consider it? For your Nanna?"

She finished with one last pat of Jade's shoulder and turned to walk back up to the house; the entire Harley household stared at her retreating back, and when Feferi saw the stunned look on Jade's face she couldn't help but feel as though she wanted to join Bec in growling at the woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Sunday 13th April.
> 
> To continue my music links, this chapter we have Feferi, who I thought might be fond of musical and musical-style songs. After an (admittedly brief) trawl of Youtube, I turned up [Someone You'd Be Proud Of](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=09NQiXTAM_A), which I thought might talk to Feferi given her position of terrifying responsibility. ;) Alternatively, [Part Of Your World](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BZp2dxpwF8) from the Little Mermaid seemed fitting, given that Fef's a seadweller and travelled to new world.
> 
> (EDIT: I can imagine Fef dancing around her bedroom singing songs from musicals, and probably roping in anyone foolish enough to open the door. I also can imagine that songs like this are the Alternian equivalent of hardcore death metal. Ehehehehe.)
> 
> If anyone with more knowledge or time can come up with a better song, shout up, and as before if you have any particular thoughts on what a character's favourite music might be, tell me about it in the comments! :)


	4. ==> Be The Punk In The Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _WARNING: This chapter may prove emotionally distressing to readers who are upset by relationships going bad. I would remind you however that this is only 1/6 of the way through the story and there's plenty of time for things to change._

### CHAPTER THREE ==> Be The Punk In The Shit

Karkat Vantas usually tried to avoid the school cafeteria. It smelled like sweaty mammals and grease, and the only thing worth eating were the jello cups. He could have sat there with the delicious, troll-friendly lunch that Dad packed for him every day, but it had taken less than a week to conclude that he would have to be the most masochistic grub-cull in the known universe to actually do so. Tyler kept finding ways to drop inedible mush on him, John insisted on letting his obnoxious crimepal Haley share their table, and Gamzee had started regularly flaunting his outright refusal to take perfectly sensible advice from his moirail about the pair of pan-sick humans who had their non-existent claws sunk in his flushed quadrant.

After the third time he’d been forced to sit there, in the middle of the noise and the light and the feeding frenzy, watching both of those think-sponge deprived assholes make worse quadrant decisions than the cullbait friend in a classic romantic tragedy, Karkat had punched a dent into his locker. He’d decided to stay clear after that. It wasn’t like he could even talk it out with his moirail, since the thickheaded clown was part of the problem.

After some searching, he’d found a door on the second floor that led to a set of dusty stairs and a fire escape. It was at the far end of the school to the cafeteria and the music room, and the light didn’t come on automatically when he walked around in there. He’d grown used to settling down on one of the middle steps with his lunch and whichever Harlequin romance novel Dad had brought home from his trip to the store this week.

Harlequin romances were the greatest cultural product of the planet Earth and Karkat would definitely fight to the death anyone who said otherwise.

He was in his fire escape, lunch consumed and forgotten as his eyes devoured the emotional climax of the book, when someone opened the second-floor door. Karkat started, almost falling down the stairs: no-one but him ever came down here, and his first thought was that it had to be a teacher come to lecture him for hiding in a stairwell. He managed to catch himself on the wall, by which time the newcomer had come a couple of steps down and he could see that it was just Callie.

“Oh, my gosh, are you okay?” The human girl dropped into a crouch a stair up from him and leaned in to examine his face. Karkat flattened himself against the wall. Callie was bizarrely tolerable for someone whose attitude was permanently lodged on obnoxiously nice, but he wasn’t at all comfortable with her getting too close to him because of reasons that he was not considering. Ever.

“I didn’t mean to surprise you like that,” she said, backing up. Karkat relaxed as she continued to talk from outside his personal space bubble. “I’m so sorry!”

“Next time, try leaving me alone,” Karkat told her, retrieving his book and smoothing down a crease in the paper. “Because in case it wasn’t obvious, I came to hide in this unused, out-of-the way stairwell to get away from the fruity rumpus breakroom rioters.” He grabbed the empty Tupperware from the step and shoved it into his schoolbag. “That usually means not being forcibly retrieved by the chief tunnel-hunting-beast of the entire moongarbling pack.”

Callie stifled a giggle. “Moongarbling?”

Karkat scowled. “Just tell me why you came to ruin my lunch break.”

The girl’s smile faded, and Karkat found his spirits fading just as fast. “It’s Gamzee,” she said. “He suddenly started acting weird- well, weirder…”

She didn’t get a chance to tell Karkat the rest; he bolted past her, his backpack and book forgotten in the stairwell, blood-pusher hammering at his thoracic struts. Callie had sounded worried but she didn’t know; nobody here knew except John and even he didn’t really. His thoughts were racing faster than his feet, trying to work out if there had been any sign, if Gamzee had maybe started acting stranger than normal, but there was nothing. It didn’t mean anything. He’d been his usual goofy self last time, too, right up to the moment when Karkat had found him surrounded by corpses and about to kill two of his only friends.

Some part of him that was more inclined to think sensibly tried to point out that if Gamzee had gone off the deep end, Callie would have been much more worried. Or dead. And there would definitely be more screaming. None of it really registered through the panic, though, and Karkat elbowed confused students aside without a second thought as he crashed through the doors to the cafeteria. Scanning the room for his moirail, the screaming rush of fear started to subside; everyone was staring at him like he was a crazy alien who had just burst in at a dead run wide-eyed and panting for breath- oh, look, he was- but that meant nobody in here was actually scared. No blood, no body parts, _thank fuck._

Panic ebbed away and was replaced by a slow, burning anger that he had been disturbed and dragged out here because Gamzee couldn't handle everyday fucking life. Again.

He saw the useless clownshit sitting at a table in the corner, slumped against the surface with his face buried in his arms. John was reaching across the table to pat his hand, while Haley leaned back in her seat, her booted feet up on the table. She was staring at Karkat with a sneer, hands frozen in the act of coloring her nails black with a marker pen. Karkat traded her sneer for a glare, just to let her know that he still thought she was a crazy bitch, then walked over with as much calm and dignity as he could muster after his panicked entrance. Everyone went back to their conversations as he passed, although he could have sworn he heard his own name a few times. Feeling the air behind him shift, he turned to see that Callie had caught up. She gave him a slightly puzzled but encouraging smile. Karkat sighed, and made his way over to drop into the seat next to his moirail.

"Alright, what was it this time?" he asked, shoving a tray covered in empty jello cups aside so he could rest his arms by Gamzee's. "Come on, asshole, Jessica was just about to catch up with the man of her dreams in Paris, and I left my shit just lying there. I'd like to get back before it gets eaten by the vermin that infest this place." He glanced up at Haley. "Present company excluded."

The girl smirked at him. "Relax, Romeo, no self-respecting rat is gonna stomach that trash you read."

"Guys..." said John. Karkat glared at him. The attempt to auspice might have been more beguiling if John hadn't been transparently trying to get into a flushed relationship with Haley. It wasn't like Karkat was really blackflirting, either. Humans didn't do quadrants, he knew that, and even if they did Haley wasn't anything like a worthy rival. Not unattractive for a human, yes, and annoying as the immortal ruler of all fuckery, but that was hardly the basis for a solid and lasting relationship.

"Has he said anything yet?" asked Callie, sliding in beside Karkat and not coincidentally trapping him in place. He still hadn't figured out how much of what she did was deliberate and how much wasn't; she was either a diabolical mastermind or a lucky idiot, and either way Karkat was certain she was going to drive him nuts by the end of the semester.

"Nothing," said John, leaning back in his chair. "He honked a bit, though."

Karkat ducked his head down, trying to see a glimpse of Gamzee's face, and saw something else almost completely covered by crazed tangles of juggalo hair. He tugged it out with one finger, revealing an unfamiliar cellphone. It was shiny black and had a large screen, which from what Karkat knew of human technology made it much more expensive and classy than his.

"Oh, that's mine!" said Callie, reaching out for it. Karkat snatched it away before she could grab it.

"If it's yours, then what's it doing under Gamzee?" he asked, poking at the screen. It lit up, some circles appearing. Karkat prodded at them to no effect, then looked up to see John and Callie both staring at Haley. His eyes narrowed. "What the fuck did you do?"

Haley shrugged and started to color in another nail. "I just showed him something that's been going round the internet," she said, not bothering to look up. "How was I supposed to know he'd freak?"

Karkat growled and shook the cellphone, which achieved exactly nothing.

"Here, let me," said Callie, leaning over his shoulder and running her finger between the circles in what looked like a completely random zigzag. Karkat held his breath so he couldn't smell her soap and tried to ignore the warm press of her against his arm; he felt oddly bereft when she sat back, leaving him staring at the frozen end of an internet video. The site wasn't Youtube, which was the only one Karkat was familiar with, but it looked similar enough.

"Real confession vid," read Callie. "What does that mean?"

Karkat glanced up at Haley. She smirked. Deciding to ignore her, he flicked the video back to the start. A load cursor appeared for a few seconds, but was swiftly replaced by a camera shot of a troll tied to a chair. She was close enough to the camera that there wasn't really anything else to see, unless you counted the blue tears dripping down her face and onto a soaked shirt, mingling with blood from dozens of cuts and bruises. Her hair looked like it might once have been styled well, but now it was dangling in matted strings around her eyes.

She looked terrified, and Karkat didn't have to ask if the shot was real.

"M-my name is K-Keller Lyzand," the troll said in English, stammering and swallowing sobs. The sound was a little low, and Karkat boosted it so he could hear it over the noise in the canteen. "A s-sweep and a half ago- three y-years- I was the l-leader of a Z-Zone on board the Ship that b-brought me to this p-planet." Her shoulders started to shake, eyes fixed on something behind the camera. "I w-was a slave t-trader who destroyed the lives of c-countless f-fellow travelers, and a m-murderer who o-ordered the brutal execution of anyone who opposed m-me." She let out a loud sob. "W-when the sopor w-was running out, I k-kept as much as I could f-for myself, and l-let my lieutenants s-slaughter those under my p-protection to k-keep them quiet. On the N-Night of B-Blood, I k-killed all of my own lieutenants by r-ripping their heads off. I p-put their heads on p-pikes while I held a c-court of terror, k-killing and m-maiming many more until I was s-stopped by the g-gas."

Outwardly, Karkat didn't react, but inwardly he tried to remember if he had heard of any of this before. It sounded familiar, but not in any specific way. There had been a hundred stories like it after that night. He didn't doubt that it was true.

On the little phone screen, Keller's head was hanging and she was still stifling sobs. Her next words were a whisper, hard to pick out over the clamor of the high school. "I am directly responsible for the deaths of over thirty people, and for the misery of hundreds," she said, eyes tracking something past the camera. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Her voice started to rise, breaking into Alternian with an undeniable highblooded accent as her head turned to follow whoever she was looking at. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I thought they were going to kill me- I didn't want to die, not there, please! I'm sorry! No, don't!"

The picture cut out, but not before Karkat saw the shadow of a gun appear on the wall behind her. He looked up at the three humans, noticing that Callie looked dazed and John was pale as a human bed covering.

"Did- did she die?" asked Callie.

"Yeah," said Haley, leaning over the table with a wicked grin. "The original video showed her brains getting blown out, but the cops managed to shut it down before it really got out." She snickered. "And she's not the only one, either. They're saying it's a new serial killer. I thought your friend would dig it because he's into that creepy shit, but I guess not."

Karkat glanced over at Gamzee, still unmoving and slumped over, and John, who had gone silent and taut like a wound spring. Callie looked like she was about to be sick, but Haley was still grinning.

He wasn't aware that he'd made the decision to attack until he was halfway across the table. His hand curled into a loose fist- claws tucked in, safer to hit with- and planted itself in her nose before she could even flinch. The cafeteria erupted into screams and shouting as Haley's chair fell over backwards, sending her sprawling across the floor. The girl hollered in pain and clamped her hands over a nose that was streaming red; she glared up at Karkat, still crouched on the table. He hissed back, blood burning, as she staggered to her feet.

"You little BITCH!" she yelled, words muffled by her hands. Karkat pulled his lips back, showing his fangs in something that was half-snarl, half-smirk. He was racing high on hormones, drunk on hatred. How dare she, his thoughts whispered. How fucking _dare_ she do that to HIS people.

"Karkat..." said Callie, and a hand reached out to brush his shoulder. He shook it off, still focused on his enemy. Haley pulled her hands away from her nose, wiping away a dribble of blood. It was red, but not broken. The punch hadn't been full-force. Karkat wanted her hurting, not dead.

Haley clearly didn’t feel the same; her fall had scattered the remains of her lunch, and she grabbed her plastic fork with one hand while using the other to push off the ground and launch herself towards Karkat. He ducked aside just in time and the fork broke off on his shoulder, leaving a scrape on his neck that was nowhere near as painful as the eye she had been aiming for would have been. More trays went flying and Karkat shook off another restraining hand, ignoring the shouts of everyone around him as he grabbed Haley around the waist with one arm and dropped off the table.

The floor wasn’t far and even after cushioning Karkat’s fall, Haley recovered fast. He hardly had time to feel smug about landing on top before her fist landed in his face, a perfect retaliation for his first blow. It was lucky that trolls were built tough and humans weren’t so strong, or Karkat’s cartilage nub wouldn’t have survived. Blinking through the daze of pain, he failed completely to resist being shoved, and fell off sideways. Haley followed him over, fist rising for another punch. Still seeing stars, Karkat looked up into a furious, bloodied glare, and dimly heard people chanting something nearby that he couldn’t make out over the thundering of his own pulse.

Acting on instinct, his hands slipped past Haley’s arms, grabbed the collar of her t-shirt, and pulled her down. A stab of pain ran through Karkat’s face when he pressed it into hers and kissed her, but for a few brief, glorious seconds no shits were given.

Then he was being shoved back, and Haley was standing and backing away from him, and someone had grabbed his arms and someone else was yelling in his ear. Gamzee’s head had lifted from the table and he was staring at Karkat with his own particular brand of confusion. Karkat wanted to scream at him because various parts of his thinkpan were coming back online and presenting him entire hundred-page reports in triplicate on how his last few actions had been the epitome of unmitigated stupidity and _why hadn’t his moirail stopped him?_

He was still trying to figure it out a quarter of an hour later, sitting outside the Principal’s office. The school nurse had looked at the pair of them, handed out some tissues and declared no permanent harm done. Haley was dabbing at the blood around her nose and glaring at him, but all Karkat felt was tired. Maybe a little sick. Callie had retrieved his school bag from the fire escape for him, but he didn’t feel like reading any more.

The door to the office opened, and Principal Chen poked her head out into the corridor. She looked sternly at the two teenagers. “Come in,” she said. Karkat and Haley started walking at the same time and there was a brief scuffle in the doorway that ended when Haley managed to squeeze in past him and steal the seat with a padded cushion. Karkat followed slowly, dropping down onto the plastic chair that had clearly been dragged in from a classroom and staring at his knees.

Principal Chen closed the office door with a click before sitting back down behind the desk. Silence followed; Karkat risked a glance up; the Principal nodded when she saw she had their attention.

“You both know why you’re here,” she said, leaning forwards towards the two teens. “And rest assured, I will be calling your guardians when we are done talking. But first I want to impress on you both just how lucky you are that you are not currently facing expulsion.” One long finger raised to point first at Karkat, then at Haley. “Both of you are on probation at this school. I won’t go into why as you already know your own reasons, but if either of you had this fight with a different pupil…”

“But he started it!” Haley yelled, slamming her hands down on the Principal’s desk. Karkat glared sidelong at her; he hadn’t known that she was on probation, but it didn’t surprise him. It was probably for trouble with the cops, like his.

“Kindly sit down and calm down, Miss Morgan,” said Principal Chen. “I am aware of what happened in the cafeteria; there were, believe it or not, a large number of witnesses. I am also familiar with both of you, and following what I have been told I have no doubt that you managed to provoke him. It is certainly in keeping with your past behavior and you will be held responsible for your actions.”

Karkat smirked as Haley slumped back down into her seat, but the Principal wasn’t done. He swallowed as she turned to him with a mild frown.

“For your part, Karkat, you are too easily provoked. This outburst was only the capstone on your career of aggressive and confrontational behavior at this school, and as I have warned you many, many times in the past you will not be given any leeway for cultural background. You not only assaulted one of your fellow students, you displayed a type of violent, sexualized behavior that is not appropriate in a school context or, I would add, a human one.” She sighed. “I understand that a young Alternian of your age is subject to strong biological pressures, but I will not tolerate any-” she broke off to consult a slip of paper on her desk- “caliginous flirting with _any_ of my students. Is that clear?”

Karkat nodded, not trusting himself to speak. It wasn’t like she was wrong; Past Karkat had been a complete grubfondling moron and he knew it without needing to be told.

“You will both have after-school detention with me for the next month,” said the Principal. “And any further infractions- verbal or physical- will result in suspension. Make no mistake; you are getting off lightly, here.” Her eyes, dark in a way that was uniquely human, fixed on Karkat. “I suggest you think carefully about your futures, and the effect your actions could have on them.”

She seemed to be waiting for something, so Karkat mumbled agreement along with Haley. The Principal dismissed them both with a wave and a request to “not see either of you in here again.” This time he beat the human girl to the door, and narrowly resisted the temptation to close it in her face or on her hand.

When he saw who was waiting outside the office, he found himself wishing he hadn’t been the first one out. John paused in pacing the width of the corridor to glare at Karkat, and despite the ridiculous corrective ocular lenses and the blunt buckteeth his expression still managed to be mean.

 _At least he doesn't look too much like his Ancestor,_ Karkat told himself, and walked up to his human brother. He wasn’t sure whether he was planning to apologize or working himself up to yell at John for inviting that lunatic Haley to hang around them in the first place, but as it turned out he didn’t get the chance to do either.

“Fuck you,” John hissed as soon as Karkat was in ear-shot. The words were too quiet for anyone else to hear, but Karkat bristled as if they had been yelled at full volume.

“What in the slime-filled pits of the broodcaverns else did you expect me to do?” he whispered back, showing a hint of teeth. “You saw her; she didn’t care that her stupid fucking video sent Gamzee catatonic, or that you were white as a lusus covered in powdered grain!”

“Right, because that totally meant you had to attack her!” John snapped back. “You know, I actually like her and if you can’t handle that then that’s your problem, not hers!”

Karkat shook his head to try and clear out the stupid. “She’s a psychotic maniac! Not potential quadrant material!”

“Right, so that’s why you kissed her!”

Karkat was about to retort when Haley herself wandered past him and put a calming hand on John’s shoulder. His mouth slammed shut as the girl leaned in and whispered something to his human brother, a moment of something alien but oddly pale.

“I’m going to find Gamzee,” said Karkat, striding past them before they could say anything else and clamping down on the bubbling anger in his digestive bladder. He needed his moirail now, someone to grab hold of him and pap him and bleed out all the sick, twisted rage that had been building for weeks and which he couldn’t figure out what to do with.

He hadn’t been expecting Gamzee to still be in the cafeteria, especially not now that their lunch period was almost over, but he wasn’t prepared when he caught sight of his palemate leaning against a wall by the male bathroom, sucking face with the human female whose name, Jenna, was starting to sound like a virulent curse to Karkat. They both looked up when he stomped over, Gamzee's- not a matesprit not a matesprit- scrambling back as Karkat reached past her to grab Gamzee's arm. He'd sort-of-accidentally scratched her a few times in the past when she hadn't been fast enough; part of him wished she'd been slower this time.

"Jam. Now," he said, jaw flexing. He stepped back, starting to drag Gamzee after him, only to be brought up short when his moirail shook his hand off.

"Kinda motherfucking busy right now, best friend," said Gamzee, a slight edge in his voice. Karkat turned back and let some of his fury show in his face.

"For fuck's sake, Gamzee," he said, dropping into Alternian. "I am one social misstep away from flipping my shit so hard that it goes spinning out of the window, flies into the stratosphere, and starts raining down on the entire continent! I need you _now,_ and if that display of statuesque paralysis you had in the communal eating block earlier was anything to go by then you have a few things that need piles and papping too, so ditch your pretend matesprit and _come with me!"_ He reached out for Gamzee's arm again, and stumbled when the other troll stepped back, eyes narrowing.

"She's not motherFUCKING pretend," Gamzee said, in a low growl that didn't disguise the sudden uneven burst of his voice. "And if you was all up and to being WORRIED about my motherfucking STATE OF MIND, you should've all been up and thinking of that what BEFORE you went attacking a sister and leaving me to be DEALING WITH SHIT my own self!"

"That bitch was the one who upset you!" Karkat yelled, not caring that the hallway was rapidly filling with people who were staring at an argument they couldn't understand a word of. "And you don't get to talk about leaving your moirail to deal with shit alone, you asshole! I'm always chasing after you cleaning up your messes, but when was the last time you helped me with any of my problems?"

Gamzee took a step forward, and another, until he was looming over Karkat. The smaller troll was suddenly reminded of how much taller his moirail was and how dangerous that subjugglator paint could look when the face under it was twisted with something ugly. "Like I'm always up and TELLING you, bro, those ain't problems to any motherfucker what ain't a BOSSY, MEDDLESOME, MUTANT!"

Each of the last three words was punctuated with a small shove, pushing Karkat back until his back was pressed against a locker. It should have been scary, and some part of Karkat really was scared. But a far larger part of him was angry, and he fought back with one large push that made Gamzee stumble back and let Karkat advance on his moirail. If that tent-squatting fuckass wanted to argue, then he, Karkat, was more than willing to oblige.

"Don't try and make me the designated villain in this!" he yelled, glaring straight into a pair of indigo-tinted eyes that seemed almost shocked for a second before fading back into heavy-lidded simmering anger. "I don't trust the humans you've been fucking about with, and I don't care a squeakbeast's ass if you whine until the sun explodes, as long as I'm your moirail I'm not going to just let you get hurt by some sick grubsnatchers who want to take advantage of you being close to conscription age and use you as a _fucking pail!"_

"Well then, maybe we'd both all up and be happier if you weren't BEING my MOTHERFUCKING moirail!"

Karkat stared wordlessly. For a moment he felt as if the anger was draining out of him, but then he realized that wasn't it at all. It was freezing, not dying; changing from something wild and hot to something bitter and icy.

"If that's how you feel about it, maybe you're right," he said, almost spitting the words out. There was a lump in his throat, but he ignored it, clenching his hands as Gamzee looked over at the human girl.

"Yeah," he said, his voice hoarse but more normal. Then he turned back to face Karkat, the softness in his voice vanishing. "I got more than one motherfucking quadrant to be all up and attending to," he said, solemn in a way Karkat hadn't seen before. "And if you can't be down with those wicked and righteous miracles what I got going on, then this motherfucker says it's time we was parting ways."

Karkat forced himself to meet those eyes- those beautiful, pitiful eyes- steadily. "If you're going to insist on fucking up, then I'm not coming to save you," he said. "You're on your own, slime-sponge."

Gamzee grinned, a lazy spread of his lips, and leaned in closer. "Fuck off, _freak,"_ he whispered, in near-perfect English.

For a few long seconds Karkat stared at him, ignoring the flurry of whispers that were spreading and rising in volume all around. It was the memory of what Principal Chen had said that drew him out. He couldn't afford to fuck up right now. With one last parting glare, he shoved Gamzee aside and stormed off past him down the corridor, ignoring the mutters as he passed and the grating, honking laughter coming from behind him.

He might not have been allowed to fight any of the students, but there was a punching bag in the gym, and he had just enough time before class to demolish it in the name of exercise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Monday 21st April.
> 
> So, that was a display of outright brilliance from all three of those boys, amirite? I'm absolutely certain that there will be no further negative fallout from this chain of events! :)
> 
> So, music for Karkat! He loves drama and is not exactly subtle about his emotions, and I thought that he'd latch onto music that reflects that. 70s and 80s rock anthems and power ballads seem appropriate- the more overblown, the better. [It's My Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jC67JzPqDG4) by Bon Jovi is an example of the sorta thing I'm thinking- I can just imagine Karkat singing along with all the passion in his unironic little heart and then cussing out the internet, insisting that it's a true work of art and anyone who disagrees is a philistine.
> 
> You know. If he gave a shit about music, which he probably doesn't, since it's all tuneless monkey wailings anyway.


	5. ==> Be The Sleuth In The Know

### CHAPTER FOUR ==> Be The Sleuth In The Know

Terezi Pyrope was waiting, but she didn't see why that had to be boring. Sniffing the inside of the freezer got her nowhere- nothing but beer and microwave meals, yuck- but she eventually managed to find a forgotten Popsicle in one of the cracks and salvaged it with a triumphant flourish. Plastic yielded easily to her claws and she gave the wrapper an exploratory lick; blue raspberry exploded across her tongue, not as glorious as red cherry but a cooling and delicious alternative. Terezi made sure to lick up the syrup before dropping the wrapper in the trash, then took her prize over to the couch and slumped down. Feeling the remote under one of the cushions, she fished about with her free hand until she managed to grab it and turn the TV on.

The next five minutes were spent consuming blue icy goodness and listening to the latest news. There was officially a new serial killer on the loose and Terezi wanted to keep an ear on the case. According to the news anchor, the FBI had taken over the investigation; Terezi licked away the last raspberry-flavor fragments and wondered if they had any trolls consulting. From listening to the videos that were circulating the internet, she was pretty sure that this killer was Alternian. They would have to be to choose their victims so specifically.

It was a shame she had other fish to fry, but then maybe it was for the best. Last time she had gone after a serial killer, more than one person had nearly died, and she was on a strict no-doing-dangerous-things penance from Cathy.

She heard the footsteps coming up the corridor and stuck the Popsicle stick in her mouth, grinning as she sucked at the last traces of syrup that had soaked into the wood. She adjusted herself to the most casual slouch she could fabricate and waited until she heard a key turn in the lock and the soft click as the door opened.

"Hello, Matt," she said, and was rewarded by a curse and the sound of clattering as her neighbor dropped his groceries.

"DAMN IT, Terezi!" the cop yelled over her laughter. Plastic bags rustled as he stooped to pick up the contents. "What the hell are you doing in here? Aren't you still grounded?"

"I'm out on parole," said Terezi, leaning over the arm of the sofa and turning her head towards the sound of his voice. "Cathy has agreed to defer punishment until such time as Dave no longer requires intensive emotional support from his friends."

"Great," said Matt, groceries clinking onto the counter. The fridge opened, and Terezi heard the hiss of a can opening. "So explain again why you are in my apartment, rather than keeping criminal mastermind junior company?"

Terezi tracked him as he walked across the room to the couch, turning her head to simulate watching, and pulled her feet out of his way an instant before he could shove them aside. "Dave has his human family to comfort him," she said. "But they are not positioned to get him answers, like I am."

Matt barked a single harsh laugh out, and the cushions sank as he sat down. "No way. Not a chance, kiddo."

"You don't even know what I'm looking for yet," said Terezi, turning around in the seat and scooting a little closer. She rested her head against Matt's shoulder, butting against him like a wiggler looking for attention from its lusus.

"I don't need to know," Matt said, but he wrapped his arm around her anyway and gave her a squeeze. "You're always up to mischief."

"I am not!" Terezi said, stiffening but inwardly grinning. Inconvenient as it was, she liked the challenge of convincing Matt to help even when he knew what she was trying to do. "I am an agent of justice," she told him, taking the Popsicle stick out of her mouth and sniffing it. It still smelled good, so she stuck it back in and with a flex of her wrist snapped it off between her fangs.

"... did you seriously just eat that?" Matt asked, as she swallowed.

"Mhm," said Terezi, with a smug smile.

"And you're not choking? Or getting splinters in your throat?"

Terezi cackled. "Jealous of my ability to eat all of the things?"

"After seeing your meals? Not even slightly." Matt paused, then let out a sigh. Terezi heard him put his open beer can down on the table next to the couch. "Where's Cathy, anyway?"

"Doing overtime at work," said Terezi. "She took her key to this apartment with her, but I got your spare out of the air vent. You should find a better hiding place; that one was too easy to sniff out."

"Thanks, I'll bear that in mind," said Matt. He paused again. "Look, just so we're clear on this, me and George didn't arrest Dave's brother because we know he's a criminally irresponsible sociopath."

"You didn't?"

"No, we arrested him because he's a criminally irresponsible sociopath who was caught with multiple doses of a very dangerous drug that does jack all to humans." Matt gave her a squeeze. "The guy was trouble, kiddo, and we got him fair and square. And that is where mine and George's part in it ends, because there's no freakin' chance we're investigating a case we're so close to." His hand removed itself from around Terezi's shoulder, and gave her one last pat that she had learned was a human way to express sympathy. "I know you don't want to hear bad news about Dave's brother, but I promise, it’ll be handled fairly."

Terezi wrinkled her brow. "I'm not concerned by bad news," she said. "I'm aware that Mister Orangina is not an ideal guardian by human standards, although I still think he would make an admirable lusus. The issue I have is that this doesn't fit, and you have to know that too. You're a good enough cop."

There was a long pause, filled by a loud commercial on the TV trying to persuade them to buy Crocker brand cake mix. "You know, they found about two dozen swords when they searched the apartment?" said Matt, after a while. "Actual sharp blades, most of them. And I don't even want to think about the puppet things- the pictures were bad enough."

"Did they find any drugs?" Terezi asked. Matt said nothing, and she started grinning. "They didn't, did they? Now why would a merciless, unrepentant drug dealer be carrying his goods to his honest citizen's workplace but not store any at home?"

"Terezi, that apartment was the last place anyone should raise a kid," said Matt. "Quite frankly, I don't care if we picked him up for drugs or taxes or a goddamned parking ticket; Dirk Strider shouldn't be allowed near Dave, or anyone else for that matter, and if you care about your friend you'll let the law take its course here."

"But he's innocent."

"No, he's not," said Matt, and the couch shifted as he got to his feet. "Come on, it's time I dropped you off back home, before Cathy gets in and freaks out at me for busting you out of house arrest."

Terezi shrugged and swallowed the other half of the Popsicle stick, then got to her feet and trailed after Matt. It took all her concentration to look dejected as he led her across the hall and watched her go in through her own front door.

"If you need anything, just yell," he said. Terezi nodded and closed the door in his face, then pressed her ear against it and waited until she heard him re-enter his own apartment. Only when she was absolutely certain her cop neighbor was out of earshot did she start sniggering, a wide grin splitting her face from ear to ear.

The basic design of Cathy's apartment was a mirror image of Matt's, but the furnishing was totally different. Terezi scooted across to the kitchen table where she had left her laptop- it was Cathy's old one, so a bit slow, but it worked just fine- and rejoined the conversation she had left when she heard Matt driving down the street.

gallowsCalibrator [GC] responded to memo on board M1SS1ON 1MPOSS1BL3   
GC: 1M B4CK 4ND 1TS GOOD N3WS   
GC: 1 C4N CONF1RM TH4T M1ST3R OR4NG1N4 1S NOT GU1LTY OF TH3 CR1M3 FOR WH1CH H3 W4S 4RR3ST3D   
TG: gee thanks for that rezi   
AT: yES, tHANK YOU, fOR FINDING THINGS OUT, fOR DAVE,,,   
TG: gotta say i would never have worked out my brother wasnt a drug dealer without your keen investigative insight   
TG: youre like fuckin sherlock holmes solving crime up in this bitch   
AT: uM,,,   
CT: D --> Your infantile convi%ions do not constitute proof, Strider.   
TG: all the cunning criminals are fearful at the sitch   
AC: :33 < *ac winds around the dragon's talons and wonders if she will tell us the circumstances of her confurmation.*   
TG: moriartys in the house and hes got a master plan   
CT: D --> Cease this ridic001usness at once.   
TG: and doc watsons sayin damn   
GC: H3S NOT GOING TO L1ST3N TO YOU 1F YOU M4K3 D3M4NDS L1K3 TH4T   
TG: but never fear she is here   
TG: solvin crime and being rad   
GC: 4T 4NY R4T3 1 D1SCOV3R3D TH4T NO DRUGS W3R3 R3COV3R3D FROM TH3 STR1D3R R3SID3NC3   
TG: terezi pyrope holmes is the baddest of the bad   
AT: uM, sORRY, tEREZI, bUT i AM NOT ENTIRELY CLEAR ON, hOW THAT IS A GOOD SIGN?   
CT: D --> Strider, if you do not cease your de100sional ramblings this instant, I will engage you in a slam poetry battle the likes of which you have never before been subject to.   
TG: that a promise dude   
AC: :33 < *ac cleans her whiskers and wondpurrs where the drugs came furom if there were none in the den.*   
GC: 4N 3XC3LL3NT QU3ST1ON COUNC1LLOR C4TN1P   
AT: oH, i GET IT,   
CT: D --> The art which you are profaning is one of the most ancient and noble traditions of my people.   
TG: bring it   
AT: uM, wOW,   
AT: tEREZI, i THINK, wE SHOULD TELL HIM,,,   
AC: :33 < *ac growls at the silly boys in warning and tells them to behave before she cuffs them with her claws!*

Terezi held a moment of silence for the tragic fact that she was not going to get to smell the look on Dave's face, then kept a promise she had made several months earlier.

GC: D4V3   
GC: DO YOU H4PP3N TO R3M3MB3R WH3N YOU 4SK3D US TO T3LL YOU WH3N YOU 4PP34R3D TO B3 BL4CKFL1RT1NG?

There was a delectable pause.

TG: oh fuck no

She burst out snickering, almost falling face-first onto the worktop. Poor Dave. So very careless with his affections; it was deeply endearing, particularly given how skilled he would have been at proposing rivalries had he wanted to. Sometimes she fantasized about the arguments she had overheard him having with Karkat, while Cherry Pop had still been around. Not that she ever planned to tell either of them that.

AT: sORRY,   
GC: Y3S D4VE   
GC: YOU 4R3 DO1NG 1T 4G41N   
GC: YOU 4R3 L43D1NG POOR 3QU1US ON   
TG: no fucking way this is a jk right??   
AC: :33 < *ac grabs her crayons and studies her shipping wall thoughtfurly*   
CT: D --> It is nothing to be ashamed of, Strider. Your attraction is entirely e%plicable.   
CT: D --> The STRONGNESS of my physique and nobility of my bearing are considered e%tremely desirable in a caliginous match.   
TG: oh god this is not happening again   
AT: aT LEAST, iT'S NOT GONE FAR, tHIS TIME?   
GC: H3H3H3   
AC: :33 < *the purrbeasts whiskers twitch at the hint or purrior naughtiness!*   
TG: no stop it   
TG: there is no naughtiness   
TG: abort abort i am mashing the big red fuck no button here   
CT: D --> No, Strider, I do not think a red relationship w001d be possible between us.   
CT: D --> You simply make me too % with your 100d language and ridic001us affectations.   
CT: D --> If I am to contemplate you as a mate, I have a STRONG preference for kismessitude.   
TG: oh jegus fuck he said the m word   
TG: this is major tom to ground control   
TG: send help   
GC: TH1S 1S GROUND CONTROL TO M4JOR TOM   
GC: W3 TH1NK YOUR L1QUOR1C3 T34S1NG 1S D3L3CT4BL3   
GC: WHY WOULD W3 STOP IT?   
AT: aCTUALLY, i AM GETTING THE FEELING, tHAT MAYBE EQUIUS IS NOT BEING, eNTIRELY SINCERE?   
AT: aBOUT, hIS DECLARATIONS OF HATE, i MEAN.   
AC: :33 < *giggles*   
CT: D --> Fiddlesticks. I was hoping that I could draw that out for at least a few more minutes.   
TG: thank fuck   
CT: D --> Don't mistake me, Strider: I consider you to be a loathsome being. Platonically.   
TG: crying my eyes out here dude   
TG: cant believe youd leave me standing at the altar like this   
AC: :33 < *ac puts her crayons down but leaves them within easy reach, just in case.*   
AT: at, uM, sAYS THAT ac SHOULD PROBABLY, mAKE A SEPARATE SECTION FOR PEOPLE, tHAT DAVE ACCIDENTALLY, fLIRTS PITCH WITH?   
AC: :33 < *purrs*   
GC: SO ON TH3 SUBJ3CT OF YOUR BROTH3R   
TG: right sorry   
TG: got distracted by an asshole   
CT: D --> Could you be any more crude than you are already?   
TG: dunno but a guy can dream   
TG: so rezi youre saying that the drugs had to come from somewhere??

Terezi's grin took on a sharper quality that a few surviving FLARPers would have known to fear.

GC: R1GHT   
GC: S1NC3 1T W4SNT YOUR HOM3 1 WOULD 1M4G1N3 TH3 CLUB 1S TH3 MOST L1K3LY SOURC3   
GC: W3 N33D TO 1NV3ST1G4T3 TH3 SC3N3 OF TH3 CR1M3   
TG: no offense but the scene of the crime is a fucking crater   
TG: we wont find jack shit there   
AT: wHAT, aBOUT THE PEOPLE?   
AT: tHE ONES WHO WERE THERE, i MEAN,,,   
TG: well i can probably ask bro for a list of employees regulars and suspicious faces   
TG: but im under watch 24 7 here   
AC: :33 < *ac licks her paws and flicks her tail*   
TG: that supposed to mean something??   
CT: D --> I believe Nepeta is v001unteering our services to do the necessary gallivanting about for this investigation.   
CT: D --> Our punishment was completed long ago, so it should be feasible.   
AT: yOU'RE OFFERING, tO HELP, eVEN AFTER YOU GOT HURT, lAST TIME?   
CT: D --> I suffered no long-term ill effects from my graze with the bullet, and I found my participation in the fiasco to be e%hilarating.   
CT: D --> This should be a less physically dangerous endeavor.   
TG: never thought id owe so much to a sweaty perv and his furry kittycat girlfriend   
TG: but thanks guys   
AC: :33 < no purroblem!   
AT: i WILL SEE, iF i CAN GATHER ANY MORE INFORMATION, oN POTENTIAL SUSPECTS, fROM gEORGE   
GC: 1LL DO TH3 S4M3 W1TH M4TT   
GC: DONT WORRY D4V3   
GC: W3'LL H4V3 YOU 1NUND4T3D W1TH PLUSH RUMPS 4G41N 1N NO T1M3   
TG: that should not be reassuring   
GC: H3H3H3   
GC: GOT TO GO   
GC: 1 C4N H34R C4THY 1N TH3 CORR1DOR   
AT: lATER, tHEN,

Terezi minimized the incriminating conversation and pulled up a news site moments before the door opened.

“I’m home!” called Cathy, and Terezi heard the twin clatters of shoes being shed. She turned as soft footsteps padded across the wooden floor. “Have you had a good day?” asked her mother, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. If Cathy had been a troll, Terezi would have called it pale, but Tavros had explained to her that humans considered that part of being a good lusus and Terezi didn’t mind letting her display affection. Maybe if she had a moirail things would be different, but luckily that was not a consideration.

“Did you know that there are websites devoted to true crime stories?” Terezi told her, grinning.

A chair scraped across the floor. “Sounds terrible,” said Cathy, her voice coming from sitting-height.

“It is,” Terezi told her, with a snicker. She’d found the sites earlier that day while looking for more information on the as-yet unnamed serial killer and they had provided hours of entertainment. “I signed up to a couple of the forums,” she told her human mother.

Cathy sighed. “Try not to upset anyone too crazy? At least not if there’s any chance they can find us.”

Terezi laughed. “Promise,” she said, certain that she could avoid being traced. Trolling the forums was going to be almost too easy, but she had to amuse herself somehow, and how else was she going to find worthy fellow investigators?

“How’s Dave doing?” asked Cathy. Terezi shrugged.

“He misses his brother,” she said. “And I remain convinced that justice has been blinded.”

She heard Cathy huff. “No investigating,” said her mother.

“No investigating,” Terezi said. Then, before she further interrogation could uncover the lie; “So are we having takeout for dinner?”

“Actually, I invited Matt over, and he wants to cook,” said Cathy. Her voice was warm with amusement, and Terezi returned the smile she knew the woman was wearing. Human attitudes to eating together were as unusual as kisses to the forehead and just as exciting; Terezi would have to discuss the meal with Nepeta later, and they could revise their estimates on how long it would take the two humans to enter into a matespritship, or whatever the alien equivalent was.

A thought struck her and her smile grew a little wider. “Does Matt actually know how to prepare food?”

She heard Cathy’s giggle. “There are takeout menus under the phone.”

“I want Mexican,” said Terezi, waggling her eyebrows until her mother’s giggles became all-out laughter.

There was a knock at the door just as Cathy was regaining control over her breathing, and Terezi’s hand was patted as the chair scraped again.

“That’ll be him now,” said Cathy, walking over to the door and opening it.

“Hey,” said Matt; plastic rustled, and Terezi imagined him carrying the bag of groceries.

“Hey,” said Cathy.

“Hi, Matt!” Terezi yelled, leaning around the fridge and cackling when the man jumped back. He muttered a few stifled curses.

“Are you alright?” asked Cathy.

“Yeah, fine,” said Matt. “Hey, can I have a word with you?”

“Of course,” said Cathy.

“In private,” Matt added, and Terezi could feel him watching her from the hallway.

“Oh, sure, um- hang on, let me take that,” said Cathy. There was a rustle of plastic. “Terezi, can you put these on the counter, sweetheart?”

Terezi nodded and stood, walking over and holding out her hand to accept the grocery bag. From the clinking she expected it to be heavy, and wasn’t disappointed. She held her hand slightly open so her claws wouldn’t cut the fragile plastic handle and started maneuvering back over to the kitchen.

“We’ll only be a minute, kiddo,” said Matt, and she heard the door close and two sets of footsteps move down the hallway out of earshot. With a speed that she had never shown to her human guardians, Terezi dumped the groceries by the sink and took off across the apartment, heading for the couch pushed up against the far wall. Cathy and Matt had a pretty good idea of how good her hearing was, and she wouldn’t hear anything listening at the door, but luckily that wasn’t her only option.

The air vent was high up enough that she needed to stand on the arm of the couch to get her head near it, and she had to bend her neck at an awkward angle to stop her horns from scraping the ceiling. Terezi leaned in until her cheek was brushing against the cool metal slats, and smirked when she heard voices- distant, but perfectly audible- echoing in from the corridor outside.

“…all this about?” Cathy was asking, her voice taking on a bell-like quality from its journey through the air conditioning.

“I was just wondering if you’d found anything out about that goo yet.” Matt’s voice sounded deeper, but there was no mistaking the falseness of his casual tone. He wanted an answer, alright, and Terezi pressed her palms against the wall, determined to hear every word.

“Matt!” said Cathy, in the same tone she used when Terezi tried to eat yoghurt with her fingers or drew on the wall with chalk. “You know I’m not supposed to discuss that with you; it’s not your case.”

“C’mon, Cathy,” said Matt, and now there was no pretense to hide his frustration. “Me and George were investigating this case for weeks until Strider got involved; you can’t blame me for still wanting to know what’s going on!”

“Then ask around the station,” Cathy replied, and Terezi stifled a snicker. She had the best guardian. “Or do you want the whole thing thrown out of court?”

Matt sighed, the breath echoing in the metal vent. “Come on, Cathy, there’s gotta be something you can tell me.” He paused. “You know, I _did_ kind of point the department your way…”

“Oh, fine! But you’d better not let anyone know I told you.” Cathy’s voice lowered, and Terezi held her breath to hear what the woman was saying. “All my preliminary tests show that the substance is of alien origin, almost certainly Alternian and definitely biological. Chemically, I’ve never come across it before, but it’s got multiple compounds in common with both mind honey and sopor slime. As for its effects on an Alternian, I can’t tell you without a much better physiological model, but I’d say you probably have a better idea than I do anyway.”

“What about humans?” asked Matt. He was just as quiet, and Terezi twitched her nose as her lungs started burning.

“Again, I have no idea. Mind honey we know is harmless to terrestrials, but since sopor is toxic by skin contact alone I haven’t been taking any chances. It could do nothing, it could be lethal.” She paused, and Terezi’s nose twitched again. “If you haven’t seen any humans suffering from potential side-effects, then my guess would be one of the extreme outcomes, but again I don’t have the resources to be certain.”

“Any idea when you’ll know more?”

“Assuming that’s any of your business, I’ve made contact with a respected scientist in the field of Alternian biology who has the necessary theoretical modeling experience to help me analyze the biochemistry of your mystery substance.” Cathy’s voice rose in volume again, and Terezi let out her breath in a single relieved puff. “Now, detective, I believe we had plans for dinner?”

Terezi jumped down from the arm of the couch and raced back over to the table. By the time the two humans returned to the room, she was on a True Crime forum and writing a very carefully backhanded compliment to someone’s atrocious crime scene analysis.

“Found one already?” Cathy asked, leaning over her shoulder. “What’s the master plan?”

Terezi snickered. “I keep feeding them this double-edged nonsense until they spot the insult and yell at me, at which point I tell them they’re an awful person for shouting at a blind girl.” She nodded. “Chaos will then ensue as the inhabitants of this forum argue over who is in the right, and by the time they ban me for trolling it will be too late to save this hive of poor deductions and romanticized criminality.”

Matt whistled. “You’re evil, kid.”

“I try,” said Terezi, turning back and giving her laptop screen a thoughtful lick before hitting post. She folded it closed without a second sniff; there would be time later to contact the others and let them know what she had overheard. For now, she had a family to attend to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Tuesday 29th April.
> 
> This week's musical speculation is the lovely Terezi Pyrope, who rather than a particular musical genre I can see liking cheerful-sounding music with disturbing lyrics in the vein of [I Can't Decide](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OFKUnfwBPTU) by Scissor Sisters. She can practically taste the pretty colours, and the added layer of mindfuckery would appeal to her sensibilities. :)


	6. ==> Be The Ghost In The Mansion

### CHAPTER FIVE ==> Be The Ghost In The Mansion

Aradia Megido didn't hesitate when she saw the creature; she attacked.

It was fast, and dived aside before her telekinetic blast hit home. A heap of broken discs and and sharp-edged metal was sent scattering across the wall of the respiteblock, a few stray bits of shrapnel slicing across the alien's arm and opening shallow slices that leaked unnaturally red blood.

Aradia reoriented herself, flickering out of reality for a second only to come back facing the unknown presence. The alien was shouting something at her, words in a language she didn't know, and she responded with another blast. Its dodge was just as fast as before, this time taking it out of the door in a tight roll that looked wrong as the muscles moved under its skin. If it thought that was going to stop her from defending her matesprit's territory, though, it was mistaken. Aradia concentrated hard and reappeared in the corridor outside, just in time to watch the alien hurtling down the stairs to the ground floor of the hive. Her next blow went over its head as it ducked, and slammed into the handrail. There was a loud crack of breaking wood.

"SOLLUX!" the alien yelled, a familiar word but one that sounded wrong in the pink-tinted mouth. It dived to the side as her next blast knocked a circular web of cracks into the wall behind it, and its legs kicked out to spin a low cabinet out into her path. She could just make out a few strands of pale, fine alien hair poking up above the cover.

Red light gathered in her palms as she advanced on the yelling intruder.

"AA!"

She hesitated when she heard another voice behind her, and turned to see a small crowd of strangers walking up behind her. One of her hands came up in warning, and they all stopped. The one in the lead, a boy with eyes that flickered blue and red, raised his hands to show that there was no psionic energy burning around them.

"AA, it'th me," he said, frowning at her like she was a puzzle he needed to solve. Aradia's fingers twitched and she raised her hands, ready to blast the invaders out of her hive, but for some reason she paused mid-motion and stared at the boy without moving.

"Do you recognize me?" the boy asked, and it was Aradia's turn to frown. There was something about him that was familiar, a sense in her lower thorax that he belonged, but no name came to mind.

<No,> she said, but she still didn't move. A sense of deep unease was starting to steal across her, a chilling feeling that she had forgotten something vitally important.

"It'th okay," the boy said, taking a step closer. His expression had changed, and Aradia was confused by how much pity she could see in it. "Do you know where you are?"

<My hive,> she said immediately, reassured by the certainty.

"Do you remember why you were chathing DV?"

She glanced briefly over her shoulder at the alien, who had popped his head- and it was a he, she was sure of it now- up from behind the cabinet. He said something in alienese, and another alien behind the boy with the glowing eyes snapped at him.

<He was intruding,> Aradia said slowly. <He was in my matesprit's respite block.> Even as she said the words, the feeling of missing something important came flowing over her stronger than ever.

"Okay, that'th good. We're going great," said the boy with the glowing eyes. He gave her a small smile, but she noticed that it didn't go any further than his lips. "AA, I'm going to tell you thome thingth now, and I need you to not freak the fuck out, okay?"

Aradia glared at him, doubts vanishing before anger. <Who are you? Why should I listen to you?>

"Becauthe we're hatefriendth," said the boy. "Clother than that, actually. My name ith Thollucth. You don't remember becauthe you've been injured; you're getting better, but your memory thtill doethn't alwayth work right, and that'th what'th happening right now."

Aradia was expecting anger, but instead his words triggered a rush of confusion. <I- no, that's not...> She blinked, feeling her chest tighten in panic as the gaps in her knowledge suddenly appeared in sharp relief. <My matesprit,> she said, bloodpusher hammering. <I don't remember.> She turned her head, looking away from the boy and studying the hive she was standing in, the alien architecture and the wrongness of the light. <Where am I?> she asked, her voice shaking with panic. <This is my hive, but it isn't, and that doesn't make sense, I don't...>

"It'th okay, AA," said the boy, taking another step closer. "You're right, thith ith your hive. You live here, and tho do I. You're thafe here."

Aradia looked back at him, the steady blue and red gleam of his eyes, and was struck with the memory of a wiggler with the same bichromatic eyes, the same dual horns, the same overbite and lisp.

<Sollux?> she asked, the word cracking as it left her, and the boy smiled.

"Yeah, that'th me," he said. He took another step, which brought him to stand right next to her. Aradia was looking down at him, and with a sudden shock she realized that she was floating in the air without any exercise of telekinesis. She stared blankly at her feet, hovering over the ground, and wondered what feeling was supposed to be happening in the void that spun at her core.

"It'th okay," said Sollux again, reaching a hand up towards her. "You're okay, AA."

<I'm okay,> she repeated, and despite the hollowness in her voice it did help a little to say it. She reached down and her hand tingled where it touched his, blue and red sparks running along the point where they touched. She couldn't feel his skin and that was another thing that was all wrong and right at the same time.

<What am I?> she asked, certain that she wouldn't like the answer.

"Alive," said Sollux. "But you're not awake yet." He turned his hand so that she could see the thin layer of psionic energy he had layered over it.

<Yet?> she echoed, turning her own hand and noticing her own, darker red power radiating from it.

"Yet," Sollux told her firmly, closing his fingers and squeezing hers.

Aradia drifted down towards the ground until she was hovering at the same height as him. Looking down again, she could see that they were the same age; part of her was insisting that she was younger, that she was only half this old, but the other part of her maintained that she was a teenager too, like him.

<I forget a lot,> she said. It wasn't a question.

"Leth than you did a few monthth ago," Sollux told her, an insistent tone in his voice demanding that she believe him. "And you thort of remember thingth now; you know you live here, and that you're older, even if it doethn't quite make thenthe yet."

<I remember you,> Aradia said, and he ducked his head to hide the grin splitting his face.

"You alwayth do," he said, blushing yellowish.

An angry-sounding rush of bubbling, hissing alien speech reminded Aradia that they weren't alone. She looked around to see the stranger she had chased perching on top of the cabinet he had been using as cover, dark eyeglasses looking towards the two of them as he gesticulated. Sollux said something to him in the same language, and Aradia frowned. The other people, the ones standing behind Sollux, she had a sense of vague familiarity towards; even the aliens, she thought she might know. But this one really did seem like a stranger.

<Who is he?> she asked.

"DV," said Sollux. "He'th- well, there ithn't actually an Alternian word for it, but the clothetht way I can put it ith he thareth an anthethtor with the humanth who own thith hive. He needed a plathe to thtay and that connection ith pretty important to them, tho he's thleeping in my rethpite block for the time being." He sighed and nibbled the tip of one of his thumb-claws briefly, then lowered his voice. "He'th not tho bad, but don't tell him I thaid tho. You have met him before."

Aradia stared at the alien DV, who stared back. He was trying to be impassive, but she could feel emotions boiling off him, even if she couldn't be certain what all of them were. <I've attacked him before, too,> she said, not knowing how she knew but certain that she was right.

"...Yeah," Sollux said. There was a pause, then he let out a small snort. "It'th really fucking funny."

Aradia continued to stare at the alien. <What is he going to do?>

"Not much," replied Sollux. "Come on. It'th probably betht if we get you back to your body for a retht. We've got the thcoolfeeder in for lethonth, but he knowth that I need to thkip for you thometimeth and I can catch up later."

Aradia let him take her hand and lead her past DV, away from the other two not-strangers in the hallway. She was glad to see them go. The off-kilter sense of reaching for memories that wouldn't respond was starting to get overwhelming, and she was glad to trust that Sollux would get her somewhere safe where she didn't have to worry about any of it.

He led her through a gleaming food preparation block, one that looked more like it belonged in a highblood hive than anywhere she might live, and down some steps to a metal door. Sollux leaned in and pressed a button on the wall, then spoke into a grille under the button in the alien language. After a minute it crackled and another voice spoke; there was a brief conversation, then the door creaked open to reveal a tall alien woman who, to Aradia's mind, looked a great deal like DV. She could believe they shared an ancestor, not that she really knew much about aliens or how they worked. For all she knew they didn't even have male and female in the same way trolls did.

The alien smiled at her and beckoned them both to follow her through. Aradia drifted after Sollux down more steps into a white-walled room that was lit so brightly she was glad she wasn't looking at it with her real eyes. Sollux started squinting almost as soon as he stepped past the threshold, and she could see some yellowish tears seeping down his face. The alien woman said something and fiddled with a dial on the wall; the lights dimmed until Aradia could see the room clearly.

There was another alien woman in the room, this one darker than the first, and she didn't feel familiar in the same way. Sollux's hand in hers kept Aradia from doing more than tense up; the second alien smiled at her, and she felt stupid as Sollux led her across the room to a metal-framed padded platform.

Bed, whispered her inner thoughts, but the word was unimportant compared to what was in it. Aradia looked at herself, a thin adolescent with her eyes closed in silent, dreamless sleep, and felt vaguely sick.

Sollux sat down next to her- the physical her- and rested his free hand over one of the sleeping body's arms. Aradia looked down at her own arm when she felt the contact, a gentle brush of static against her skin, and Sollux grinned lopsidedly at her.

"You look like thit," he said, and Aradia psionically punched him in the arm. She took another glance around the room while he rubbed the bruise, noting the gleaming metal and glass all around, the harsh lines and smooth planes covered in blinking lights. She let out a small gasp of surprise when, in the far corner, she saw a large, leathery orb covered in troll-like horns sitting in a clear, cuboid case.

Sollux followed her gaze and smirked. "Yeah, you're tharing thpathe with the Matriorb," he said. A shadow passed over his expression. "At leatht, for the moment. RXth wanted to monitor your brainwaveth more clothely today, tho I moved you down."

<Is today special?> Aradia asked. Sollux shrugged.

"Thee'th working on thomething with Doctor Frankel? I dunno. Normally KN helpth out down here, but they kicked her out."

Aradia looked over at the two aliens; the darker one was standing next to one of the metal tables, watching some brightly-colored goop bubble in a beaker, while the paler one was fiddling with some sort of alien husktop on the next table over. <Can they speak Alternian?>

"I have no idea," said Sollux, following her gaze. "They can definitely check the lab tapeth and tranthlate from there, though."

Aradia nodded thoughtfully, then closed her eyes and let go of a pressure she had barely noticed herself sustaining. Almost instantly she felt herself breaking down, evaporating into wisps that flowed the short distance to her body almost unbroken. The world became dark and muted, and for a few moments she was filled with the sense that she was teetering on the edge of a chasm, unfathomably deep, that hungered to pull her down. Securing herself was easy and far from exhausting, though, and within moments she was stretching out for the person she sensed nearby.

 _Hello, Sollux,_ she thought, slipping into his mind. She felt his mouth stretch in a smile.

 _Hi, AA,_ he replied. His voice was different inside his own head. Without a clumsy tongue and oversized teeth to trip them up, his thoughts danced like lightning, sharp and crackling. Her blood-pusher filled with warm pity, with only a faint tinge of guilt that she could have forgotten him so easily. It wasn't her fault, she knew that now, just as she remembered being introduced to Dave shortly after his arrival in their home.

 _I'm sorry that you always have to talk me down,_ she told Sollux, regret tinging her thoughts.

 _It's fine,_ he replied. _It's not like you do it on purpose, anyway, and all we have to do is get you back in your own head and everything's fine._

 _Yes,_ said Aradia, although she wanted to scream. What if she had hurt Dave today? What if one day she didn't remember Sollux, and hurt him?

 _So what did you want to tell me that you couldn't say in front of them?_ Sollux asked, with a nod back towards the two alien Doctors.

 _Oh!_ Aradia couldn't laugh, but she let the impression of her amusement flow through their link. _I was going to offer to listen in on them. You'll have to leave for it to work, though. They won't say anything interesting while you're here._

She felt Sollux's eyes widen. _Are you sure you want to do that?_

 _Yes,_ Aradia told him. _I remember now; Kanaya is usually down here with Doctor Lalonde, and Doctor Frankel only visits occasionally. There's something strange going on and I want to know what!_

 _Okay,_ Sollux replied. He leaned over, and Aradia had the strange sensation of feeling lips pressed against her forehead at the same time as feeling Sollux's lips kiss warm skin. _Don't push yourself too hard. You should be resting now._

 _I will,_ Aradia told him. _I promise._

She drifted with him as he got up to leave, letting go of his mind and latching onto Doctor Lalonde's at the last possible instant. Immediately she was flooded with alien feelings, emotions that were subtly different from anything she felt herself but familiar enough to be recognizable. Concern was foremost; worry that felt almost like Aradia's pity for Sollux, combined with curiosity and an almost choking amount of guilt. There was also, confusingly, desire for... something. Aradia wasn't sure what, but Doctor Lalonde- Roxy, in her own mind- was doing her utmost to bury it.

She listened along with the woman as the door clicked softly into place behind Sollux, sealing the lab off once more. Even his footsteps on the stairs couldn't be heard through the metal. Silence, broken only by the hum of computers and the faint whisper of air conditioning, ruled the basement.

"Can she hear us?" asked Doctor Frankel, or Cathy, as Roxy was thinking of her. The words arrived in Aradia's understanding through her host's own mind, and she knew before Roxy even glanced at her comatose body that they were talking about her.

"Maybe," said Roxy. "Prob'ly. But I gotta keep an eye on her vitals, so she stays. Worst case, she tells the kids a whole buncha technical junk about this goo." The word goo came with undertones that made Aradia uncomfortable, making light of something that was dark and ugly and filled with betrayal.

Cathy frowned, glancing at her beakers. "I don't like it. Last time the kids got involved in something like this, Terezi nearly died."

There was a pause; Aradia felt the guilt grow in her host, along with a surge in need for something that caused the woman to reach out and pick up a small plastic token from beside her husktop. "I'm sorry," Roxy said, running the token around her fingers, and Aradia knew she had waited to be sure her voice was working.

"Oh, I didn't mean that it was your fault," said Cathy, sounding horrified. "I just- I don't want them getting caught up in anything like that again."

 _Too late,_ Aradia heard Roxy think. The plastic token spun around her fingers.

"You know he's my son?" she said, the strange meaning of the alien word flowing into Aradia's mind as it was spoken. "Dirk, the guy they took this junk off, he's my eldest."

"Terezi said as much," said Cathy. She stood up and walked over from her desk, resting a hand on Roxy's arm. Aradia bristled at the contact, but Roxy leaned into it, resting her forehead in the crook of the other woman's elbow.

"I wish I couldn't imagine how hard this was for you, but Terezi seems to have a knack for making me afraid," Cathy said, in a voice that dripped with understanding. "And I really do appreciate how hard it must be for you to help me with this."

Roxy chuckled, but not with amusement. "Gotta admit, I was kinda hoping to find that this was like, totes harmless," she said, glancing over at the blue goop in the beakers. "Kind of a let-down so far, though."

"You've got something from the models?" asked Cathy, grabbing her seat and pulling it over. Roxy slid aside to give her room and the two women studied the pictures on the screen. Aradia tried to join in, but she couldn't read a word unless Roxy was also reading it and the few things she could translate didn't make much sense to her. Her host, on the other hand, brought up a second window and scrolled down until she could tap a particular diagram. Even Aradia could spot the similarities to the image slowly rotating in the first window.

"Here," Roxy said, sounding very, very tired. "You were one hundred percent right, babe; this nasty goop is all kinds of similar to our favorite two troll drugs. It's gotta be some sort of combo, I dunno how else you'd make something this complex, but it's definitely doing way more than the sum of its parts."

"From the police reports, I'd expect to see it overclocking psionics like mind honey," said Cathy.

Roxy nodded. "Oh, yeah, and how. But see, mind honey ain't so bad. It's like, they get an amplifier and lose some control, and go super hyper, but you mostly just gotta keep them away from breakables until they crash, you know?" She tapped the screen again. "But this stuff? It's nasty. It unbalances the natural biochemisty like sopor, see, so you get a physical addiction in the same way, and it's not just acting on the primary psionic frequencies."

Cathy leaned in, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"That is somethin' I discovered off 'Raidy, here," said Roxy, startling Aradia as she found herself nodding towards her own sleeping body. "I double-checked it on a whole bunch of the other kids, and I'm pretty sure I’ve found a secondary psionic frequency that's always active on a low level. I'm not exactly working with a super-huge sample pool yet, but every troll I've checked has it some, and it amps up something crazy when they're sleeping." She tapped her fingers on the tabletop, and Aradia felt the small impacts traveling up the woman's arm. "Now, here's where it gets all kindsa interesting; the kids who had it strongest weren't the psychics."

"They weren't?" Cathy's surprise echoed Aradia's own. She hadn't ever heard of something like this and she wondered if her own people had ever done this research. It seemed laughable that they wouldn't, but then the sort of medical technology that was capable of this kind of analysis might never have been developed in the first place. Nobody cared exactly how dead an unmoving troll was; the only kind of mind-power measurement Aradia had ever heard of before now was a basic psionic strength test.

Roxy glanced over at Aradia's body again. "It's the ones with the worst nightmares," she said, her voice low. "Eridan had a way higher reading than anybody, and I could hardly even find Feffie's. I ran a simulation with sopor molecules and it was like, mega-effective on the psionic frequencies, that one included."

"So the nightmares are psionic in origin?" Cathy whispered, casting her own glances at the bed where Aradia was physically lying. "But if that's true then we might be able to isolate a specific suppressor for that frequency!"

"Yeah, I know, right?" said Roxy, and Aradia felt the woman's spark of glee as she grinned at her fellow scientist. She even shared it; the thought of sleeping without nightmares was an impossible hope, but an attractive one. Then the joy faded, and the scientist tapped her glowing screen. “But this stuff here, right, it’s like the anti-sopor or something for psionics. It boosts up the secondary frequencies even more than the primary ones, and turns on a whole buncha other areas responsible for dreaming.”

“So any Alternian who takes it is going to hallucinate,” Cathy said, finishing the thought. “And because it’s powering up the nightmare psionics, sooner or later they’re bound to have a bad trip.”

“Gets better,” said Roxy. “See here? Unlike mind honey, this slime is _trashing_ the place. We’re talking, like, permanent brain damage to everything that isn’t psionics.” She shook her head. “Any psychic who’s hooked on this stuff is taking a one-way ticket to a nuclear meltdown.”

Cathy looked ill. “But who would even make something like this?”

“More like who _could,”_ Roxy told her, pouting at the husktop and tapping the plastic token against her lips. Aradia could feel it, smooth and cool on the delicate skin. “This is some mega-serious biochemistry, way beyond Alternian norm but kinda too alien for most humans. I can think of like, three people with the right skills to do this- and we’re both here, and Kanaya’s upstairs.”

“Well, that’s going to be a fun conversation with the police, then,” said Cathy, her lips narrowing into a line. Roxy shrugged.

“’S all I can say, babe. Did you get anything more outta the human models?”

Cathy shook her head. “Not really. It came up toxic, but I’m pretty sure you could guess that from your results.” She looked over at the other woman in sympathy; Aradia saw it through Roxy’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why your son would be carrying this.”

 _Apart from the obvious,_ she didn’t say, but the words hung in the air. It was all too personal, too alien; Aradia knew she was intruding, and as Roxy’s head dropped to rest in her hands she let go and pushed her consciousness upwards out of the lab.

Formless and unattached to anything but her own sleeping body, she didn’t exactly see her surroundings, but she was still aware of them. Dimly, she could make out voices- Roxy and Cathy were still talking near her physical ears, and she supposed it was a good sign that she could hear them, but she wanted to give them some privacy. Feeling someone ahead of her, she reached out and latched onto them. She knew straight away that she had found one of the other aliens, but it took her several seconds of confusion before she recognized Dave.

 _Hi,_ she thought. The alien stiffened; he was sitting outside with his back pressed against the wall of the house, out of sight of the doors and windows, and she guessed he had been looking for some privacy too. She felt his resentment flutter before he quashed it.

“That is never going to not be freaky,” he said. His voice was level, but from inside his head she could sense the genuine shock and fear that accompanied the words. He was good at keeping them contained; too good, considering the strength behind his feelings. “Fancy doing your Casper act, or are we gonna start re-enacting Cuckoo’s Nest? I’ll be Nicholson.”

Understanding what he was getting at, Aradia partially detached herself from him and concentrated on her own appearance, flickering briefly through a four-sweep-old form before settling on a shape that looked mostly like her sleeping self. The tests they’d done suggested her projection ability was closely related to her telepathy, but as her perception shifted into her own mock body Aradia knew it was more complex than that. Dave turned his head to look at her as if she were really sitting there, and although she couldn’t feel the slabs she was sitting on or the breeze that was ruffling the plants she knew that in some way she was present beside him under the window.

“So what’s up?” he asked, pulling his legs up and resting his arms across them. Aradia’s link into his mind let the meanings arrive alongside the words, but it was too weak for her to get much sense of the emotions behind them. The gesture still seemed defensive to her. “We taking a time-out before you go all Carrie on me again? Because I was thinking, the experience I’m getting, I might have to call up Egbert and tell him that his dreams of founding the Ghostbusters for real are coming true. I think I could have a promising career in paranormal extermination.” He rattled his sunglasses with one finger. “Not many people know this, but these rad shades here are one hundred percent guaranteed to protect a dude from demonic possession. This plus the katana, I was actually planning to have a whole Blade thing going, best of the nineties stylin's, you know?"

Aradia studied him; it was astounding, how troll-like the aliens looked, but close up she could see the small differences. The single row of blunt teeth. The shape of the jawline, that hinged but didn't flex when he spoke. The rounder sponge clot flaps, the speckles on his cartilage nub, the way he rolled his shoulders back when he pressed against the wall...

<I'm sorry,> she said. <I remember you now. You were with Tavros when he came to save me.>

"Yeah," said Dave. He rolled his head to the side, resting it just over his own shoulder. "Think you can keep on remembering that?"

Aradia shook her head. <No.>

"Figures." The boy sighed, dropping his head forwards. His hair flopped in front of his face, hiding his expression, but behind his sunglasses Aradia caught a glint of red. "So, hey, I was kinda busy doing my own thing out here, but if you were looking for Sollux he's in the kitchen with my sister. The tutor said we were breaking for lunch." His face was still hidden but Aradia felt the echo of his smug amusement through more than his voice. "Guess we were a bit much for him. Personally, I don't see the problem. I was just riffing off what Rose was saying, and Kanaya seemed to like it."

<Riffing?>

"Yeah, you know, just taking what she said and running with it." His head bobbed up. "You wanna hear me rap? It's a serious trap, keeps you locked down and listening to the dope rhymes I'm spinning. Call me a liar or a truck 'cos I'm on fire, you're a runner-up dick and you wish you were this quick, this slick, here lookin' for a tip..."

<I get it,> said Aradia quickly, before he could go much further. <Slam poetry. Tavros used to ask me to listen him practicing sometimes.>

"He usually throws it down with me, these days," said Dave. "It's kinda fun, although he's a massive dork."

<You sounded pretty dorky to me,> said Aradia. The boy snorted and tossed his head, shaking the hair out of his face.

"I think you wanna think long and hard before you accuse a Strider of being dorky. That's a deadly insult to our entire lineage. I could get thrown out of the clan for being that uncool."

Getting the sense of the meaning from their mental link, if not full understanding, Aradia's smile softened. <You said Sollux is in the kitchen?>

Dave nodded. "Yeah. Just over that way. Follow the sounds of sarcasm and bitter self-deprecation and you should find all three of them just fine."

<Actually, I think you should come with me,> said Aradia. Dave tilted his head, and she clarified: <Sollux asked me to listen in on Roxy and Cathy. I have some information.>

"Shit, why didn't you just say so?" Dave started to scramble to his feet. Aradia didn't move, and he turned back to face her. "Come on, we gotta go hash this out before someone decides to put us back in kiddy corner."

<I don't want to yet,> she said. The boy sighed and stuck his thumbs in his pockets, hunching his shoulders up.

"How come?" he asked. "You and Sollux are matesprits, right? The one where you got each other's backs and you fuck and stuff?"

<We're not...> Aradia broke off, then shook her head. <I was about to say we're not old enough for pails, but I guess that's not true, is it? I never really thought about that.>

Dave snorted. "Shit, lady, I don't know jack all about your weird alien romance. I just know it's kinda weird to be in a hot and steamy relationship with someone and not even think about doing the horizontal tango. The bedroom rumba. The beast with two backs..."

<I do get it, you know.> She looked up at him, taking in the small smirk he was wearing. <Maybe being in a coma is killing my sex drive, did you consider that?>

"Yeah, maybe," he agreed. "Whatever. It's not my business. Point is, you're close, so why don't you want to go see him?"

Aradia glanced towards the kitchen. <It's not that,> she said. <I just... I don't like that he saw me like that. Earlier.>

Dave's smirk faded. "I get it."

<Do you?> Aradia looked up at him with eyes that saw almost normally, but which she knew were blank and white.

"Yeah." The boy shifted his feet, glanced towards the kitchen. "You got this whole person in your head that you ought to be, and you don't feel like you can be them right now, so you're hiding out. I get it." He sighed and spun around, dropping back down to the ground next to her. "Fuck it. Bro's not going anywhere. Just don't make me wait too long or I swear I will flip my shit so hard that it'll be starring in hardcore porno for the next decade."

Aradia considered this. <That makes no sense.>

"See, I said I wasn't on form," said Dave, leaning back. There was a long pause. "So, you okay?"

<No, not really. You?>

"Nah." There was another long pause, both of them watching the clouds pass overhead. "You wanna go in?"

<Yes.>

"Alright."

He offered her his arm on the way in, and with a little effort she managed to create the impression of taking it. It took effort, but was strangely comforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Wednesday 7th May.
> 
> So, as this chapter makes clear, Aradia hasn't really had much of an opportunity to be exposed to Earth culture yet, which means that she doesn't currently have a favourite kind of Earth music. That said, she'll get there eventually, and when she does I can imagine her liking modern middle eastern music- [Bala Eshq](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XpBYA0lAf8I), for example. :) Strong rhythms, so it's more like Alternian stuff she's used to.


	7. ==> Be The Girl With The Question

### CHAPTER SIX ==> Be The Girl With The Question

Rose Lalonde was entirely aware that what she was doing was unfair, selfish and quite possibly pointless. She didn’t care. After all, she had no less right than Dave to visit their brother, and her presence was likely to be less distressing. She could ascertain his condition and let her twin know how Dirk was faring without bringing too much emotional baggage into the equation.

She recognized the rationalizations for what they were, of course. If she was being honest with herself, the reason she had come alone to the prison alone was simple. She wanted to talk extensively to her older brother, and Dave would monopolize his attention.

 _The lengths we go to in order to avoid admitting to a socially unacceptable line of reasoning,_ she mused to herself, handing the cab driver a folded note and watching him drive away. She would call another cab to pick her up; inconvenient, but unavoidable. She could have had Maarti drive her here, she supposed. The chauffeur had originally been hired by the Harleys, but when they left her mother had clearly weighed up the passive-aggressive merits of an on-call chauffeur versus driving lessons and the gift of an insanely expensive car, then decided on both. Rose had chosen not to make use of either of those options for this trip on the grounds of subtlety.

Now, looking at the prison looming overhead, she thought that she might have misjudged. The moral support provided by a friendly face would have been welcome in the face of the concrete and wire monolith she was presented with. She could make out armed guards, black-clad and predisposed to intimidate, keeping watch over the facility from the walls and towers. A modern fortress of sorts, though constructed to prevent exit rather than deny access.

A chime from her pocket alerted her to an attempt at contact; Rose pulled out her cellphone and groaned when she saw Pesterchum flashing with Dave’s chumhandle.

_Busted._

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 16:21 --  
TG: hey lalonde  
TG: heard you went on a field trip without telling me  
TG: i thought we were tight what gives??

Rose took a deep breath before replying.

TT: Whilst my first instinct is to ask who told you, I suppose a more appropriate response would be an apology.  
TT: I wished to talk to our brother alone, and I did not wish to distress you by demanding such access, hence the subterfuge.  
TT: My behavior was underhanded and inexcusable.  
TT: I am sorry.  
TG: yeah sure ill believe you because that was 100% convincing  
TG: you deserve an oscar for best actress  
TG: rose lalonde in contrition  
TG: im imagining your acceptance speech right now and it is so fucking moving  
TG: everyone is moved rose  
TG: leonardo dicaprio is crying  
TG: why couldnt i be rose lalonde hes saying  
TG: and then of course you finish your speech and summon lovecraftian horrors from the deepest void to do your bidding  
TG: they take over hollywood  
TG: no one notices the difference

Rose couldn't help snickering. Noticing the guards watching her, she turned away to face the road, stepping behind one of the few cars in the parking lot.

TT: That does sound like an enchanting evening.  
TT: I have, of course, always wanted to unleash terror and madness upon an unsuspecting populace of film stars, directors and producers.  
TG: actually now im thinking that could make an awesome film  
TG: cthulu versus scientology  
TG: whaddya think??

Even though he wasn't there to see it, Rose shook her head. Dave never did stop trying. It was endearing, really.

TT: I think that your act is even less convincing than mine.  
TG: dont know what youre talking about  
TT: No, of course not.  
TT: But if you want to join me, I am willing to wait for your arrival.  
TG: no its cool go on in  
TG: i mean what would i even say to him  
TT: You could try the truth.  
TG: haha nope  
TG: i dont think you understand the nature of my bond with bro  
TG: where basically hes the supreme master asshole  
TG: and im like his padawan asshole apprentice  
TG: sincerity and giving a shit and crap like that is against the sacred asshole code

Rose frowned. Dave was forever protesting that their brother was some manner of inscrutable master of irony, and given that he was related to their mother Rose had never really questioned his prowess at mind games. Yet her own experiences- both recent, and long distant- told a different tale.

TT: I am sure you must have misinterpreted something. Whilst I understand that people change over time, the difference in our recollections seems extreme.  
TT: From my childhood memories of him, Dirk was a caring individual. Quite possibly to a fault.  
TG: you wanna talk about fault lets discuss that memory of yours  
TG: better take that fucker back to the shop and hope its in warranty  
TG: maybe get your whole head checked out while youre there cos i mean as far as i can tell youve read mom ass backwards all this time

Rose frowned.

TT: I can assure you my assessment of her motives is accurate.  
TT: You simply lack the experience to divine the true depths of her depraved devotion to her nurturing façade.  
TG: no for serious  
TG: aradia said that when she listened in on her she was legit worried about bro  
TT: A deception, I assure you.  
TG: why none of us were there to hear it  
TG: the only person in there was rezis mom  
TT: So she had an audience. I stand by my assessment.  
TG: why cant you accept that maybe she does do shit sincerely??  
TT: Because nobody sincerely builds a cat mausoleum. Nobody.  
TG: i dunno that always sounded pretty sweet to me  
TG: send your beloved kitty out in serious style  
TG: i mean she even got him a tux rose  
TG: i think i might be willing to kill someone to own a tux of my very own  
TG: i even tried to make one out of skinned smuppets once but it turned out looking more like a frankentux  
TG: because i sew like ass  
TT: Your obsession with bizarre tuxedos aside, that mausoleum is a travesty and a mockery of everything Jaspers ever was.  
TT: I hated every second of that grotesque funeral, and she knows it!  
TG: okay sure its pretty weird but i still think its cool

Rose rolled her eyes. Dave had never been able to understand why she was so upset about the ultimate fate of her pet.

TT: So you will argue that willfully choosing to torment your child with a full ceremonial burial of their beloved feline is loving behavior, but discount the obvious concern Dirk showed for you after we were attacked by the Ringmaster?  
TG: the difference here rose is that bro does nothing sincerely  
TG: and thats not me being paranoid or melodramatic or any of that psychobabble shit  
TG: thats a direct fucking quote of his life philosophy

_And once again, my twin misses the point..._ if they weren't so clearly related, she would sometimes wonder if one of them had been switched at birth. Preferably herself.

TT: Interesting. Do you think that perhaps the statement of insincerity itself might have been insincere?  
TT: After all, if he does nothing sincerely, then that would certainly include speaking, and the statement would thus be ironic in the strictest of linguistic senses.  
TT: There is also a certain dramatic irony to the thought which I am certain would appeal to his sensibilities.

There was a pause before Dave's reply.

TG: ...  
TG: fuck this  
TG: i am not arguing this with you its worse than movie night with vantas  
TT: So you concede.  
TG: yeah right i concede jack shit  
TG: but i pestered you for a reason  
TG: you slipped off before we could give the full technicolor results of aradia doing her casper the eavesdropping ghost thing  
TT: Yes, I do recall something of the sort. She overheard something of greater interest than our mother’s false protestations of affection, did she not?  
TG: yeah ill say  
TG: she overheard some stuff about the drug he was arrested for holding  
TT: And?

Another pause.

TG: its some nasty shit rose  
TG: the word nuclear was used  
TG: and im talking bomb nuclear not family nuclear just in case that isnt clear  
TT: That does sound unpleasant.  
TG: yeah well point is it also takes some serious resources to make  
TG: so i was thinking maybe you should sound bro out on who the fuck hes pissed off that they could use this stuff to frame him  
TT: I can ask. I cannot guarantee that he will answer.  
TT: After your excursion last Halloween, I am doubtful that any sane individual would trust you with such information ever again.  
TG: good thing none of us are sane then  
TT: Indeed. And might I just add that it is heartening to see you admitting to your issues and embracing the positive?  
TG: no fuck you lalonde

A grin spread across Rose's face as she typed.

TT: That would be incest, brother dearest.  
TT: I will give your love to Dirk.  
\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] stopped pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 16:47 --

She switched the cellphone off before Dave could retaliate for her jab, slipping it into her pocket before she approached the entrance. There were two guards stood there and Rose didn’t miss the looks they gave her, curiosity mingled with sympathy. She returned the looks with a calm smile.

“Excuse me, miss,” said the one on the right, a rather skinny man with red hair. “But I have to ask- are you alright here on your own?”

Rose hardly even bothered to give the man a glance. “Yes,” she said, in a voice she usually reserved for dealing with her mother’s greatest excesses. “I believe it is still visiting hours, correct?”

“Yes, miss,” said the guard, stepping aside from the door. “Right through this way, and let the guard at the desk know who you’re here for.”

“Thank you,” said Rose, stepping past him and his compatriot into a foyer that was almost tortuously bland. The only thing of note was the security; there were body scanners at the far end of the room, and the desk the guard had mentioned was protected by what she had to assume was bullet-resistant glass. She garnered more curious looks from the men by the scanners. It was starting to get irritating, but she kept her face and voice calm as she stepped up to the window.

“Rose Lalonde,” she said clearly, leaning towards the speaker in the glass. “Here to see Dirk Strider.”

The man behind the desk nodded and made a note in a book. “Okay, Miss Lalonde. I’m going to need you to turn in your cellphone, your keys, any lighters or nail-files, and anything else that’s made of metal or could be used as a weapon. You can put them on the tray over there, and I’ll give you a receipt for when you come back out.”

“Of course,” said Rose, starting to empty her pockets. She had known that she wouldn’t get to take much through, and hadn’t brought more than the essentials. Her tray looked pathetically empty when she pushed it through a slot towards the guard and received a Visitor’s ID badge in exchange.

Her journey through the body scanner was uneventful and she set off through the prison corridors flanked by two guards who seemed to be nearly twice her size each. The walls were painted robins-egg blue, and snippets of various studies on color theory and psychology flickered through Rose’s thoughts. She had just reached the definite conclusion that were she subjected to such a bland environment incessantly she might well turn to crime to alleviate the boredom, when they arrived at their destination.

The visitor’s room was through a thick metal door which unlocked with a dull clang, beyond which was a square, low-ceilinged room full of flimsy tables. Some were occupied; the people in street clothes barely registered her entry, but Rose felt the eyes of several orange-clad prisoners tracking her across the room. The sensation of needing a bath was undeniable. She ignored it to take up a seat at a table which wasn’t quite as isolated from others as she might have liked.

 _Ah, well. Beggars, as they say, cannot be choosers._ She noticed her fingers drumming on the surface of the table and consciously put a stop to them, waiting in still silence with her eyes on the door that led towards the cells. She wasn’t entirely certain what she was expecting to see. Dave had often mentioned his guardian, and there had been cards sent at Christmas and on birthdays- she actually rather enjoyed Dirk’s cards, as he was an excellent artist and prone to satirical and subversive scenes, and she had really had to work on the small poems she composed in her own offerings to feel she had matched him- but she hadn’t actually seen or spoken to her older brother in over ten years. That hadn’t particularly concerned her until now.

Her breath caught when the door opened and she got her first sight of him. Dirk was flanked by two guards, and from the first moment she saw him Rose realized that despite his oft-repeated claims Dave was unlikely to ever blossom into excessive size and exaggerated musculature. Their brother, in his mid-twenties and at his full growth, was a little shorter than average and built for speed over strength. Not that he was weak at all: the short-sleeved jumpsuit did nothing to hide the obvious power in his arms, and even with only the most passing knowledge of any form of physical combat Rose could tell that he walked like a fighter. There was something almost feline about it, and although he was smaller than the men flanking him she couldn't help but get the sense that her brother was the largest of the three. His personality took up more far more space than he did.

He strolled over and dropped casually into the chair opposite her, waving his guards aside with one hand as though they were mere flunkies. Rose gave them a small nod, and they pulled back to give the siblings some privacy. She turned to her brother, and was shocked twice. Once by his eyes, brilliant orange and filled with so many emotions that she could barely comprehend how anyone could fail to read his face as Dave purported. The second time by the large purpling bruise that spread across his cheekbone. Her gaze flickered down to his hands, resting on the table, and noted the cuts and scrapes on his knuckles. He had presumably given at least as good as he had got, especially considering how closely the guards were watching him.

"Hey, li’l sis," said Dirk Strider. "Orange suits me, don't you think?" His mouth twitched into a hint of a smirk, but Rose wasn't fooled. She had seen his eyes widen when they first fell on her.

"Expecting someone else?" she asked, feeling oddly apprehensive of the answer.

Dirk shrugged. "Somewhat?" He paused, and the faintest trace of uncertainty flickered across his face. "Dave doin' alright?"

Curious with her new insight into her elusive relative, Rose decided to take an unusual tack: complete honesty. "He misses you," she told Dirk, making sure to layer her voice with the right levels of polite concern. "Not that he would ever say as much, but it is obvious."

Dirk shook his head, trying to affect disappointment. It might even have worked had his eyes not betrayed him once again, plainly showing his relief. "Little shit," he said, sounding utterly sincere. "Thought I taught him better than that."

Rose tilted her head to study him, and was disconcerted to find those piercing orange eyes assessing her in the same manner. "Mother is beside herself with worry," she said, acting on an undefined impulse.

Dirk's face didn't so much as twitch. "I'm certain she is," he said, something hollow behind the words. "I assume that the most expensive lawyers in the city are at my disposal?"

"Naturally," Rose said. "And she is protesting your obvious innocence to anyone who will remain stationary long enough. I expect this case to be at the forefront of most reputable newspapers by tomorrow."

"Glad to hear it," said Dirk, with a rapid blink that Rose couldn't quite read. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, rather than a visit from our beloved matriarch?"

Rose glanced down at the table, looking at her own fingers lying against the scratched surface. Dirk's hands were only inches away and she noted that they were the same shape as her own, down to the strangely oval nail on the middle finger that Dave had escaped inheriting.

Seeing her looking, Dirk raised his hands and ran them through his hair. The passage of his fingers rearranged the style somewhat, but it was still gravity-defying. Rose would have credited strong gel had she not been aware that the natural oils in her own hair were capable of such feats when not washed out.

"As it happens, I believe Mother is planning a visit for tomorrow," she told Dirk, deciding that it was only fair to give him warning. "It would have been today, but sadly it was necessary for her to devote the time to some unexpected work instead."

Dirk nodded. "She always has been dedicated to her career." He leaned forwards, his voice dropping. “So how’s my situation looking?”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “Your lawyer didn’t tell you?”

"My lawyer is a kind and thoughtful soul," said Dirk, shrugging one shoulder. "He took one look at me and decided to give me the full benefit of legal expertise that comes from a cut-rate degree and a lifetime spent defending dumbass punks who wouldn't know habeus corpus if it turned up rotting in their fridge."

"Shut up and let me handle it?" Rose guessed.

Dirk nodded. "Got it in one, li'l sis. I'd say I'm eagerly awaiting our dear mother's intervention, but I suspect whatever legal hotshot she sends over is just goin' to be even more dedicated to givin' me the Basics For Assholes version of my case." He shook his head and smirked. "This is what I get for impersonating a high school dropout."

"Whereas you never even attended high school in the first place," Rose said, smirking back at him.

"Well, you know how it is," said Dirk, laughter that didn't touch his lips dancing in his eyes. "You spend all your time reading books on advanced robotics and the absurdist philosophers, you lose track of a few things."

"Somehow I doubt it," said Rose, her own expression softening. She understood the feeling; even insulated from the more odious aspects of education by a succession of private tutors, she found formal learning maddening. Were it not for their passive-aggressive cachet she would not have the near-perfect grades she currently boasted. "Did you know that as of last year, I have officially succeeded in scaring away more tutors than you did while you lived with us?"

Dirk's eyebrows rose slightly- not, Rose noted, enough to be noticeable above a pair of sunglasses. "Really? Allow me to extend my sincere congratulations, Miss Lalonde."

"Warmly accepted, Mr Strider," said Rose. "I must confess, you set an awfully high mark. I was rather afraid I wouldn't be able to live up to it."

"Nah, you seem to have it all under control," said Dirk. His fingers tapped on the table, and the impatient motion reminded Rose that she had not yet answered his question.

"As for your current situation, it is not so dire as might as is first apparent," she said, and was relieved to see his fingers still. "There are likely to be some very cutting questions about the contents of your apartment, and in the event of your release I would not expect to retain custody of Dave without some notable restrictions."

Dirk nodded, as though he had been expecting this, and Rose continued. "Fortunately, preliminary consultation with various legal firms confirms that your eventual release is extremely likely. Your existing antagonistic relationship with the arresting officers throws the entire primary case into question, and of course assuming that you have not been known to have any interactions with restricted substances before-"

"I'd say you can ask Dave, but the kid wouldn't notice unless I'd rubbed his nose in it," said Dirk, the barest hint of frustration in his voice. "I haven't, though. Got better things to risk my ass over."

"I suspected as much," Rose said. "At any rate, we can make a decent argument that the drugs were planted on your person. Of course, that argument would become considerably easier if you were to give us some idea of who might want to do such a thing."

Dirk smirked again, but his eyes darted over to the guards by the wall. "Yeah, sure," he said. "It was the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. They've had it in for me ever since I was five and setting out bear traps for them."

"That is generally considered bad form," Rose agreed. "I personally baked some sedatives into a mince pie and left it out on Christmas Eve, which led to a rather rude disillusionment and a hospital visit the next day."

"You hush up, there, sis," said Dirk, studying his fingernails. "Santa is real and I'm not listening to a word outta that lyin' mouth of yours."

Rose actually smiled for a moment before she realized just how neatly he had diverted her. "Good try," she said. "But not good enough. The drugs in your pocket are something new: they weren't easy to make and could hardly have been cheap to acquire. Someone very influential wants you out of the way, but they aren't willing to kill you. How am I doing so far?"

Dirk gave a single nod, glancing at the guards again. "Close." He leaned in. "Too close. Drop it."

"Why?" Rose mirrored him, their heads coming so close that their noses were almost touching. She was staring straight into his eyes now. "What are you hiding that is so secret you are willing to go to prison rather than admit the truth?"

Dirk said nothing for a minute, just sitting and meeting her gaze levelly. "Not hiding," he said, eventually. "Protecting. This is a fucking mess, Rose, and it's already come too close to you kids. I'm not letting you get in any further." His voice was hardly above a whisper, and his eyes spoke both of fear and determination.

Now was not the time to show her own uncertainties. Rose smiled, ignoring the hammering of her heart. "We are not going to drop anything," she said. "Either you give us guidance, or you let us go in blind. In the end, I suppose the question is whether or not you think we are likely to uncover this secret by clumsy fumbling about in the dark."

Neither of them moved for a few seconds, then Dirk cursed and let his head drop, catching it in his hands. He was straightening within a second, sweeping his hair back as if that was what he had intended to do all along. Rose wasn't fooled. She had seen the moment it had clicked in his head, the knowledge that she was right, and as good as his mask was- better than hers, that was certain- he was used to supplementing it with an actual physical mask.

He was out of options and he knew it.

"Tread carefully," he said. "And wherever this rabbit hole leads, remember that you can't trust the people it takes you to. Any of them. But while you're not trusting people..." He leaned forwards a little further and whispered in her ear. "I'd find a game that _suits_ you."

"What..."

"That's it, Strider. Time's up." Rose hadn't even seen the guards approach until her brother was yanked back, their faces pulled forcibly apart. She jumped to her feet as Dirk was hauled, not at all gently, back towards the cellblock.

"Take care of yourself!" she called after him. Dirk managed to twist his head around to look at her over his shoulder; the angle of his head made the bruise dominate his face, but she caught the flash of another smirk and his eyes said _I will when you will._ Then the door slammed closed and she lost sight of him, swallowed again by the unrelenting gray walls of the prison.

There was another guard hovering by her elbow. Rose looked up at him coolly.

"Shall we?" she said, stepping past him before he could actually answer. Her escort ended up trailing her back to the body scanner, glaring at her back as she reclaimed her possessions from behind the desk. She nodded to the door guards as she left the building, called a cab from the parking lot, and spent a long time studying the guard towers that loomed overhead while waiting for it to arrive. Somewhere in there was Dirk, her brother, the same one who had once spent hours inventing the plush adventures of Prince Pony and the Mighty Miss Squid to entertain her when she had a fever. If there was one thing she remembered more than ever about Dirk, it was how much he had always hated being trapped.

She fingered her cellphone and wondered what his message might mean, but was no closer to an answer by the time the cab arrived to take her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Thursday 15th May.
> 
> So, all the prison stuff here was made up, totally 100%. I know jack shit about prisons or visiting people in them, save what I learned by watching TV. If anyone spots any glaring mistakes, please do let me know!
> 
> Generally, though, I'm very happy with this chapter. Strilonde conversations for the win!
> 
> For today's musical adventures, we examine the musical tastes of one Rose Lalonde. In canon she plays the violin, but as HUNRonin pointed out some time ago it seems likely that she would prefer music that could be used to passive-aggressively spite her mother. I'm tempted to think that she might like music akin to [Vanessa Mae](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nQ798THmR5Y) or [Bond](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ZY0xk0VeDs)\- classical strings combined with more modern beats, picked up initially as a method of subverting her mother's expensive violin lessons and then grown into an appreciation in its own right.
> 
> EDIT: Frogenshtein suggested in the comments that Rose might well be partial to the music of [Voltaire](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Voltaire_%28musician%29), such as [Riding A Black Unicorn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PjQli690Mc) and [Land of the Dead](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BxSrDn3NReA). I agree entirely and encourage people to explore Voltaire's music. :)


	8. ==> Be The Fool At The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _AN: Warning for drugs, a skeevy-ass OC, and some pale-quadrant consent issues near the end of the chapter._

### CHAPTER SEVEN ==> Be The Fool At The Party

Gamzee Makara had gone and lost his tumbler somewhere in the chaos of the party, but he didn't care overly much. By a joyous miracle he'd been carrying the mostly-full Coke bottle at the time, and he'd just had to make sure he didn't relinquish it to any motherfucker as was wanting to get their drink on. Now he peered at the plastic container through eyes that didn't seem too keen on focusing and wondered where it had all gone. He didn't have any recollection of putting all that liquid down his guzzle tube.

"Hey, sister, I gotta be all up and getting myself some more motherfucking miracle cola to be up and potating on," he shouted over the music. His tongue, confounded by carbonation, got all clumsy and slurred the words. Jenna's brow- it was a motherfucking beautiful brow, he loved it, worshiped the slightly fuzzy feel of the skin against his lips- furrowed.

"You're wasted," she yelled back, hot mammal breath tickling the outer shell of his auricular spongeclots when she leaned in to be sure he heard her. Gamzee hardly even heard the words, distracted by the expanse of smooth, brown-pink neck stretched out right in front of him. On impulse he bobbed his head down and buried his lips against her collarbone, his nose resting on Jenna's shoulder.

Slim hands, blunt and soft, pressed against his cheeks as Jenna physically lifted his head away and moved it around so she could look at his face. Suddenly bereft of neck, Gamzee let his free hand start playing along her back instead, sliding up and down the alien knobbles of her spine and playing with skin just under the lower edge of her top.

"Just all up and to being getting my motherfucking party on," said Gamzee, giving her his widest grin and trying to at least look like he was swaying in time to the music. Truth was, he could hardly hear it any more, all the noises just blurring together into one huge miraculous mess. The Coke was working its wicked magic on him well.

Jenna kept her hold on his face, rubbing her thumbs over his bone structure. "Maybe we should go find Cody," she called over the party. "Get you out of here."

Gamzee grinned, his skin tingling with her smell, her touch. He could feel something cool lighting up in his belly. "You think as what maybe the three of us might be all getting us some other miraculous party activities all going on up in this motherfucking bitch?"

There was no way of mistaking the look of concern on Jenna's face when he spoke. "Not tonight, Gamz. You're fucked. How much of that did you drink, anyway?"

Gamzee pouted and waved the empty bottle near her face, the hand he had resting on her back stilling. "Ain't all up and to being nothing, sister."

"The fuck it's not," Jenna replied, lowering her hands from his face to his shoulders and meeting his eyes squarely. "You've been to, like, a dozen parties with us and you _never_ drink cola. I even remember you turning it down because it messes you up!"

"So?" Gamzee was scowling now, good humor vanishing like smoke in the wind. "I ain't all up and getting my judgment and motherfucking accusation on as to when you and Cody are all up and motherfucking drinking or all smoking pot and all that shit! This ain't even being no more worse than what that's being."

"Maybe not, but I'm still worried, okay?" Jenna saw him aiming to grab a half-full Coke bottle from a table and intercepted his grab, slim little fingers holding it back away from him. "'Cos me and Cody, we smoke and drink all the time, but you never do this. You're like this complete straight edge on anything that might get you even slightly high; you don't even like to sit near us when we're toking up! And I eat lunch with you enough to know you take pills, and if humans aren't meant to mix alcohol with their meds I bet you shouldn't be drinking stuff that fucks with you this much!"

Gamzee growled and made a snatch for the bottle she was holding. He was thwarted when Jenna stuck it behind her back and took a step away. "I already went and was drinking some, so where's the harm at being? Ain't none of your motherFUCKING business anyway as what I'm all up and eating or drinking or being motherfucking medicated on at!"

"None of my business?" Jenna yelled, and Gamzee couldn't tell if she was shouting over the sounds of the room or if she was shouting because she was getting her anger up. "We're dating, Gamz, I think I have the right to know if you're going off the deep end!"

Gamzee made another grab for the bottle. This time Jenna was slower, and his claws scored her hand. Hissing in pain, she loosened her grip, and Gamzee took advantage of her momentary distraction to grab the Coke with his other hand and raise it over his head, out of her reach.

"Motherfucking trust me," he said, his voice a low rumble that he rarely used, coming as it did from his sponge matter as much as his air chute. "If I was all up and being off the motherfucking deep end, you'd all be knowing every which way about it."

Jenna took a step back, resting on her toes like she was ready to run, and started searching his face with her eyes. "Gamz, you're kinda scaring me here, babe."

Something deeply unpleasant in his thinkpan squirmed with glee. Gamzee screwed the lid off the Coke bottle and took a swig to banish it; miraculous little bubbles fizzed all the way down into his digestive sac, and it churned in protest of the continued abuse.

"Don't wanna be all up and scaring to no motherfucker," Gamzee muttered, staring at the acidic brown liquid. Abruptly, he thrust the bottle at Jenna, and without a word bolted off through the dancing crowd. He could hear her shout after him, but he didn't look back. The humans around him cleared a path; hardly any needed pushing aside or dodging around at all. Gamzee couldn't bring himself to wonder whether they were unused to having an alien in their midst yet, or whether he was leaking the mirthful blessing of his psionics without having intent to. Neither answer appealed.

The bathroom door was just opening as he got to it, and the emerging human was surprised when a clawed hand yanked him the rest of the way out and the owner darted past. Gamzee slammed the door and locked it before anyone could object, dropping to his knees in front of the toilet bowl just barely in the nick of time.

His body took its time purging what little he had managed to eat in the last day. Gamzee spent some time staring at chunks of half-digested food in the toilet bowl, swimming in sour, purple-tinted brown fluid that tasted nowhere near as righteously sweet coming back up as it had going down. His head was still buzzing and there was nothing left in him and he was still spasming, clinging to the edge of the toilet bowl with both hands and regretting every motherfucking thing he had ever done since being hatched. His hair dangled like black streamers around his face, and some of them were dripping and fouled with bile.

Small splashes hit the soiled water as Gamzee tried and failed not to cry. It was supposed to get better when they moved in with Egbert and Hatdad. It was supposed to be that he got his medicine so his head made sense, and that they had a safe place to sleep and real food to eat, and that there were people who motherfucking cared and could miracle away all the awful, broken, mad things inside and fix everything to be perfect forever.

It wasn't supposed to be pills that made him vomit and a lusus who worked such long hours he might as well never have been there anyway and a moirail who left him hurting- _you all up and drove him away, starved that motherfucker on lies and secrets where you should have all been fattening him with what pity you all got up in you-_ and a matesprit who looked at him in fear.

His lips moved in a silent prayer to the messiahs, even as he shook inside to think of their answer.

_It's all to being your own fault, you know._

_YOU'RE THE ONE WHAT MOTHERFUCKING DROVE THEM TO IT._

_Goatdad. Equius. The Asshole. Hatdad. Karkat._

_GOOD WORKS, MOTHERFUCKER._

_Are you really thinking as you all up and needed them?_

_THEY WERE ALL UP AND BEING THE MOTHERFUCKING SHACKLES AS WHAT WAS HOLDING YOUR MOTHERFUCKING ASS BACK!_

Gamzee bit his lower lip so hard that he tasted blood.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. "Gamzee?" called Cody's voice, a little strained over the deep bass rumble of the music outside. "Gamzee, you in there, man?"

Gamzee stared at the toilet bowl and his own shaking arms. Caffeine or fear, he had no motherfucking clue any more. "Yeah," he heard himself call back, and if his voice slipped halfway through the syllable then it was hardly any sort of surprise.

He could imagine Cody leaning against the door, dreadlocks brushing against the cheap wood. "Jenna said you just took off. How you doing?"

It took a few long seconds before the miracles of speech woke themselves up again in his mouth. "Shit's all up and being motherfucking fine in here, brother," said Gamzee, shuffling back from the toilet bowl and half-rolling, half-slumping over so he was sat leaning against the sink. "'S all motherfucking moonlight and miracles, you dig me?"

Another pause across the door, the sound of his second matesprit thinking what to say. "Jenna told me about your break-up with Karkat, man. She says it wasn't pretty, lots of shouting and shit."

If he hadn't already thrown up everything in his digestive sac, Gamzee thought he might want to vomit again. "I don't wanna be talking about nothing," he told the door. "I just wanna get down to being having some motherfucking fun all up in this bitch."

"Yeah, I can dig that, but you fucking loved that shouty little asshole," said Cody's voice, still as perfectly even and chilled out as ever. "And what happened, that would mess anyone up for a while, dude. So if you wanna talk about it, we're here."

Gamzee snarled- actually, truly snarled- at the door. "You got something to say, MOTHERFUCKER, you say it to me or you get your ass the MOTHERFUCK out of my way."

Again there was a pause. "I don't wanna have a screaming match through a door, man," said Cody's voice, still calm but with a stern edge Gamzee didn't remember hearing before.

"THEN FUCK OFF!" Gamzee howled, kicking one of his heels into the floor. It felt good to let some of the anger bleed out, but he could feel the rest still waiting behind it, burning cold purple and laughing in the dark.

"I'm not going anywhere, dude. Jenna's shit-scared you're gonna do something stupid and I'm kinda thinking she's got a point, now. We're not gonna just leave you to deal with shit alone."

_Liar. Liar._

_SET THE MOTHERFUCKER ON FIRE._

Gamzee dug his claws into the peeling linoleum on the bathroom floor and gnawed at the hole he'd already bitten in his lip. He wanted to believe Cody, wanted so badly to open the door and fall into his arms and go off with him and Jenna for snuggles and quadrant-blurring feelings jams until they helped him solve everything.

But he'd thought that about Karkat, once. Always and forever, they'd said, and for Gamzee it had been a prayer. His plea to the Messiahs, that mutant blood meant long life, that it meant he wouldn't have to watch everyone he cared for and who cared for him leave him one after another until he was all alone.

It didn't matter now, because forever had ended and always was a scant handful of sweeps, and whatever they said today Jenna and Cody were going to leave him in the end. If nothing else, they were human, and he knew how long humans lived. They were like brownbloods, here one day and gone the next, while he was destined to go on and on and on and on.

_Hush, hush. You'll always have us._

_WE'LL ALWAYS MOTHERFUCKING HAVE YOU._

_You know what they say?_

_CAN'T KEEP DOWN THE CLOWN!_

He couldn't depend on people, because when they left they tore a hole in him, and that was how the darkness clawed its way in.

"Go away," said Gamzee, too tired to shout and not even sure who he was talking to. "Just... just motherfucking go away."

There was silence from outside, and he assumed that Cody must have done like he asked. He waited for a while longer, until he could breathe steadily again, and took the time to flush the toilet and wash his face and hair. He even rinsed out his mouth using a blob of toothpaste; the mint tingled, numbing his tongue and chilling his cheeks from the inside. Gamzee spent a few minutes wondering how it knew what temperature it was supposed to be at, then with one more deep breath pulled open the door.

Cody was sitting against the wall opposite, and for a moment they stared at one another. Then Gamzee turned and started striding down the hallway. Cody jumped to his feet and started following.

"Gamzee, will you just talk to us?" the human shouted, trying to follow him as he wended his way past the partygoers all around. Gamzee tried to ignore him, but was forced to stop and turn when his matesprit's hand closed around his arm.

"MOTHERFUCKER, you better not be all up and thinking you're STOPPING me," he snarled, yanking his arm back so hard that Cody stumbled towards him before releasing it. He saw the human's eyes widen, felt the tingle of anger and fear through his long-neglected psionics, and another heavy blow of regret slammed into his blood-pusher.

"Sorry," Gamzee said, taking a step back. "I just gotta- I gotta get away. From people." He held steady, weight back and ready to run, but frozen in place by a nonsensical need for permission.

Cody's face slowly relaxed, and Gamzee didn't stop his matesprit from leaning forward and planting a gentle kiss on his lips. They were stupidly soft, even softer than Jenna's, a sharp contrast to the wiry little hairs around them. "We're gonna talk later, man," Cody said quietly, brushing a hand along Gamzee's cheek. "Be safe."

Gamzee nodded, not trusting himself to speak, then turned and ran through the party crowd. Passing through the front door, he was met with a rush of cool air, the night-time breeze feeling like the freedom he was sought. He didn't slow down or look around until he was fifty yards down the street, far from prying eyes and loose, whispering lips. There, surrounded by nothing more than shadows and the sound of distant music, he slowed to a walk.

He didn't know where he was going, not yet. Away, mostly. The party was too loud, too full of strangers, and it called up something inside him that he needed to bury deeper. But the only other place he could think of was home, and home was either too empty or too full. He didn't want to deal with sharing a room with Karkat, angry and hurt and no longer someone he trusted in sleep. He didn't want to hear John arguing with anyone, or see the look his human brother had been getting on his face ever since he had started listening more and more to Haley. He didn't want to see Hatdad being disappointed in him, hear the lecture again about curfews and personal responsibility and know that he was failing the only person who still had faith in him.

Thinking of the house empty and still, all three of them out and scattered to the corners of the world again, was even worse.

"Hey!"

The voice broke through his thoughts, and Gamzee was so surprised that he turned. He saw Brandon running up the street towards him; the dark-haired human stopped a few yards away, chest heaving for breath, and gave him a lopsided grin. "Tired of the party already?"

Gamzee scowled at him. "Told Cody I all up and wanted to be being getting my ass away from where the people was at, not as what I wanted some motherfucker following it."

"Yeah, I know," said Brandon, strolling up and draping an arm around Gamzee's shoulder. It should have made his skin crawl. It didn't. "Just wanted to check up on you, bud. I know Cody's got his panties in a twist but that doesn't mean shit with him. Don't get me wrong, he's a great guy, but everything's always gotta be done his way, you know?"

Gamzee ducked out from under the arm. "Ain't none of these motherfucking conversationals been all as fortuitous as what people are thinking as what they're being," he said. "This motherfucker ain't doing so good tonight, buddyfriend. Gotta get some space all up around and in my thinkpan for a while."

Rather than being perturbed by this, Brandon just nodded as if it was what he had been expecting. "Yeah. Figured you were looking for a little escape. Which is what I'm doing out here; I happen to know a guy might be able to help out with that."

The human gave him a lopsided grin, but Gamzee shook his head. "Ain't being no kinds of sweet wishes all up in that motherfucking plan, brother." He turned and started to walk again, determined to get away from Brandon before the thoughts and desires rattling around in his skull betrayed him.

"Did the cola help?"

Gamzee stopped, staring down at the sidewalk without looking back.

"I don't wanna push you to do anything you don't want to, bud, but if you ask me it looks like you already decided how to handle this. I'm only trying to help out."

For the longest minute of his life, Gamzee stood there, torn between two options he didn't want no part of. Then he sighed, reached up, and rubbed his hands across his face. His claws prickled against his skin, pushing away the pestilent feelings bubbling below the surface, and he waited until they were sinking deep to look back around.

"Alright, motherfucker," he said, feeling older than he ever had and lighter than he could remember in a long while. "Take me all up and along to be meeting this righteous miracle-peddling motherfucker of yours."

Brandon looked triumphant as he led Gamzee back across the street to his battered old car and opened the door for him to crawl into the back seat. It took two tries to close the door, and Gamzee closed his eyes and tried to keep his stomach steady as they rattled away. He thought he should be feeling guilty, but instead there was an empty hole inside him that he couldn't help but keep poking, waiting to see if he would bug out.

Mostly, he was just relieved. He hadn't even realized how much effort he was pouring into staying clean and sober and sane until the moment he had decided not to bother. There was something screaming in his head, a blasphemous and hateful voice that wanted nothing to do with his plans, but he knew that his actions would silence it eventually. He had all kinds of practice in that matter.

"We're here," said Brandon, and Gamzee opened his eyes to see that they were in a different neighborhood. The party had been in one of the low-rent districts, but this suburb looked more like the street he lived on with the Egberts. It wasn't the same, of course- the houses were brown, not white, and the red bulk of the factory wasn't visible at all from here- but it seemed like too wholesome a place for what they were seeking. Still, he didn't question Brandon, spilling out of the car after him and jogging along the sidewalk. The dark-haired human was never without some less-than-legal substance in his pocket, and Gamzee figured Brandon had to know where he had got it from.

Gamzee had next to no experience in human hives and how they worked, but he thought that the house they walked up to looked a little unkempt compared to its neighbors. Nothing major, nothing he could really put his finger on, just a general sense of decay to the place. Maybe it was his imagination. He leaned against the front wall while Brandon knocked on the door, wondering at the gentle, red-tinted light that was pouring out from behind the curtain on the front window.

The door was opened by a young human woman- of course she was human, what else would she be outside of California? She was barely half-dressed, and it didn't take Gamzee more than a minute to recognize the slightly unfocused smile she was giving them. He'd worn it himself often enough.

"We're here to see King," said Brandon. The young woman nodded, and stepped back to let them pass in. Her eyes widened slightly when she caught sight of Gamzee, but she said nothing as she walked past them to lead them down the corridor.

Inside, the house was dark and the air was heavy with the mingled smells of incense and drugs. It was thicker than anything Gamzee was used to and he nearly choked; eyes watering, he followed Brandon and their guide to a door which was leaking curling wisps of smoke and the sound of music unlike any Gamzee was used to.

"King," said their guide, drifting into the room and dropping down onto a beanbag. The man lying on the couch next to where she sat lifted his head, revealing a thin face with slightly sunken eyes and a predatory smile.

"Brandon!" the man said. His eyes flicked over to Gamzee, hovering in the doorway, and his smile widened. "And a friend. Gamzee, I assume?"

Gamzee shifted. "How come you're all up and having the knowing of a motherfucker's name?"

"Brandon mentioned you," said King, his eyes tracking Gamzee's every movement. "Not to mention a few of my other friends. You're big news around here, you know. Mind if I ask what brings you to my humble abode?"

"He's looking for something to help him chill out," said Brandon, dropping into an armchair across from King. "I figured you could help?"

"Maybe," King murmured. He still hadn't stopped staring. "Won't be simple, though. Can't just give him what'd work for a human and expect it to do the same. You ever seen those videos of spiders on drugs?"

Gamzee shook his head. One of his horns bumped against the doorframe, and he winced.

"It's hilarious, but not exactly fun for the spider," said King. "Come on, sit down. No point hovering in the doorway."

The woman giggled, and Gamzee shot a look at her. There was something bugging him about her, and he couldn't figure out what it was. Still not sure exactly what he made of this place, he walked stiffly across the room and sat down on the only seat next- left to King on the couch.

"So, what's your poison?" asked King. Up close his eyes weren't as dark as they had seemed from across the room, but they were still eerily alien. "I've got some friends. I can get something in by the end of the week."

"Don't care," said Gamzee, trying to ignore the twin desires inside him that screamed sopor and not sopor with equal volume. "Just- I wanna just motherfucking check the motherfuck out for a while. Not be all up and dealing with shit and be all blessed with some peace up in, you know?"

King nodded, and with one foot prodded the woman on the bean-bag. "Hey, Kara, go get the carton in the fridge, yeah? The one in the door."

The woman slowly pushed herself up and tottered out of the room. Gamzee found himself studying the lamp in the corner; it was the only source of light in the room, and it glowed a deep maroon. Blobs of something red floated inside it, suspended in clear fluid. It was hypnotic to watch.

"Alright, I'll get in touch with my friends in LA, see what they say," said King. "It'll probably cost a bit more than the usual, since I'm having to ship it in. You got money?"

Gamzee froze and looked over at Brandon. When King chuckled, he realized that he had just answered the question whether he meant to or not.

"I got him covered," said Brandon quickly, giving Gamzee a nod of reassurance.

"Okay, I trust you," said King. He turned to Gamzee. "Don't worry about it. If he doesn't come through, you and I can work something out. Cool?"

Gamzee nodded silently. King's eyes were still boring into him, and he had the feeling that if he tried to back out now the chaos in his thinkpan would be the least of his problems.

The tension in the room was interrupted by Kara, who came back in carrying a carton of milk. "I got it," she said slowly, holding it out to King. He smiled at her and took it, then pulled her in with his other hand and planted a long, lingering kiss on her mouth. Gamzee's feeling of wrongness took a step up, but he forgot about it as King passed him the carton.

"Did a bit of reading a few months back, and I wouldn't want you to be disappointed in my hospitality," he said. "Good for you that Kara's shit with groceries."

Gamzee sniffed the carton, and smelled the heavy, pungent scent of spoiled milk.

"Motherfucking cheers," he said, and with a grimace took a swig. It was lumpy and bitter and the lactic acid burned on the way down, just like he remembered. He hadn't drunk this shit since LA, back when meds had been an impossible dream and sopor had been a luxury. There was a market developing, or so he'd heard; people working on making special spoiled milk that was all liquid and didn't taste like ass. He figured that most of the motherfuckers he'd known to drink it didn't give a shit so long as they could get it cheap.

He'd drunk half of what was there before he really started feeling it, everything smoothing out and turning topsy-turvy in his thinksponge. He could still hear Brandon and King talking over his head, but he didn't care much to listen to the words; instead he slumped over, landing on something soft and warm. King didn't seem to mind much having a sleepy troll drop in his lap. In fact, before long Gamzee could feel a hand running through his hair.

Vaguely, he thought that maybe he should object, that it wasn't right to have someone he just met expecting that much trust and closeness. But he was tired, and it felt nice, and it took away some of the hurt from not having a moirail to do it for him.

 _Does it even all up and be mattering any?_ he wondered, watching the blobs dance in the lamp through eyes that wanted to close. The milk was making him lethargic, but the petting was calming his thoughts, and that was what he wanted, right?

Making up his mind, Gamzee waited until the hand on his head was in just the right spot, then twisted his head so it brushed against the base of his horn. It was only the slightest touch, but it was enough to send a river of pleasant feelings all through him, every muscle relaxing and the bitter fury in his thinkpan sinking a ways back into the hole it came from. It made him realize just how much he had missed having someone to do this for him.

Even the human he was lying on noticed the change, because his stroking stilled. Gamzee looked up into a quizzical face, and smiled. King smirked back, and then his hand moved again. His hand pressed deliberately into the delicate cluster of receptors, and Gamzee's doubts vanished along with him under a wave of blissful miracles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not even giving you odds on what happens next. I did a pretty piss-poor job of hiding this setup. Have fun shitting yourselves in anticipation and cursing my name.
> 
> Music for Gamzee! Well, canonically he likes Slam Poetry, and as HUNRonin pointed out to me, Earth Rap comes in more varieties than just mainstream. Since I am too lazy to trawl through all the rap ever and he likes actually rapping himself, I can see him going for rap beats that he can then slam over. [Especially](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfCPDZuiVAE) [disturbing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rqFln2TsI4) [circus-themed](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSq_0XQC8-k) [ones](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TneBwuyWAGE). Do shout up if you know a rap song that fits Gamzee in your opinion!
> 
> For times when he feels a need to be less in touch with his clownish side, given how much he just likes chilling I can see him taking to some of the weirder, more tranced-out prog rock like [In The Land Of Grey And Pink](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9hmFzGTxod4) by Caravan and [Entangled](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BdJkOMYzVFE) by Genesis.
> 
> EDIT: Next update to be Friday 23rd May. Forgot to mention!
> 
> EDIT 2: [Ryo Hoshi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoshi_Ryo/pseuds/Ryo%20Hoshi) has brought to my attention the album [Silent Cavities](http://www.jamendo.com/en/list/a130780/silent-cavities) by [Heifervescent](http://www.jamendo.com/en/artist/347734/heifervescent). I concur that this totes sounds like Gamzee-music. :)


	9. ==> Be The Geek With The History

### CHAPTER EIGHT ==> Be The Geek With The History

Sollux Captor was ready to commit murder.

“So what’s down there, anyway? Always wanted to see inside a genetics lab; I bet there’s some serious X-men shit in there.” Dave slouched against the wall, close enough for his presence to send unpleasant prickles across the back of Sollux’s neck. “Like Momlonde has a whole squad of mutant chicks with adamantine claws just waiting, and when we open the door unauthorized they rush us. I’ll hold them off while you run, because- let’s be honest here- you have no swag. Not only have I been in training my whole life for being covered in bitches, being suddenly rushed by a band of deadly hot babes with murderous intent is a massive improvement over my usual steady fare of profane plush proboscis. At least I’ll die happy rather than deeply unsettled in the richly-padded clubhouse of my soul.”

Sollux’s patience snapped. “Oh, for fuck’th thake Thtrider, will you _thut the hell up_ already!” Dropping the small panel he had been carefully working off the door frame, he turned and glared at the human. “Thith ith not how you thtealth. In fact, thith ith not how you do anything other than pith off the computer geniuth who thet up thith thecurity in the firtht plathe!”

“If you helped make it, what’s taking so long?” Dave asked, tilting his head slightly in a gesture of innocent curiosity. Sollux growled, sparks flickering around his head. He took a step towards Dave before a hand on his chest pushed him back.

“I am starting to develop a headache,” said Kanaya, looking from the one to the other. “Kindly refrain from bickering with one another until we have completed our mission, if it is at all possible for the pair of you.”

Sollux cast one last lingering glare at Dave- showing him a middle finger as he did so- and turned back to the door controls, ignoring the low throb in his thinkpan. He hadn’t been entirely truthful; Roxy had contributed at least as much to the security of the lab as he had, and after finding a few extra programs buried in the computer she had given him he refused to underestimate her again.

Ignoring Dave beat-boxing behind him, Sollux located the right wire and sent a psionic pulse through it. The door hissed open and he grinned in triumph. It was a shame they were trying to be stealthy; the urge to leave a calling card so Roxy knew he had gotten around her work was almost strong enough to make him stupid.

Dave was the first one into the lab, stepping past them so fast that Sollux missed him moving. He took a deliberate moment to replace the panel before strolling in after Kanaya. The lab was nothing they hadn’t both seen before, and if he was being honest he preferred not to spend any more time down there than he had to. Despite the small signs of habitation Roxy invariably left behind- crumpled wrappers, dirty tumblers, scattered papers- the room was too white, too bright and too chillingly mechanical to put him at ease.

Ignoring Dave’s interest in a shelf full of twisted, fleshy things in jars, Sollux strolled across the room to the tangle of machines surrounding Aradia’s cot. He glanced at the monitor next to her, showing readouts that he had taught himself to understand, and breathed out a small sigh when he saw the proof that she was still recovering.

“This is fascinating,” said Kanaya, and Sollux turned to see her sitting at Roxy’s usual computer. “It must have been extremely complex and time-consuming to create the original formulation. I find myself wondering if the responsible parties are human or Alternian.”

“Why?” asked Dave, turning away from the shelf of gross mutant _things._ Sollux didn't mind goopy biological stuff when it had a proper technological purpose, but the jars seemed completely pointless; space that could have been used for hard drives or data storage. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m as proud of my species as the next red-blooded mammal, and inventing highly addictive mind-destroying substances is obviously always something to boast about, but it’s the same shit either way, right?”

Kanaya spent a moment chewing her lip and frowning at the screen. “Perhaps so,” she said, clicking down on the mouse. A nearby machine whirred, and Sollux grabbed the paper that spewed out with only a brief glance at the reams of unintelligible biochemistry written on it. He had no idea how Roxy and Kanaya could read this crap, but then biology never was his thing outside of program grubs and computing hives, and that was more math and basic genetic sequencing codes.

“Ith thith everything?” Sollux asked, waving the sheaf of papers at Kanaya. She took them out of his hand and flicked through them, then nodded.

“Yes, this should suffice,” she said. “Are you two finished?”

“Yeah,” said Dave. Sollux glared at him.

“I thtill don’t know what you were doing here in the firtht plathe,” he said. Dave shrugged.

“Annoying you,” he said, and strolled out. Sollux felt himself sparking, and took several deep breaths to calm his nerves.

“I do not think he is sincerely flirting with you,” said Kanaya. “In fact, following my conversations with Rose, I suspect his motives are more probably tied to a desire to understand his biological mother. The lack of a close relationship between them is considered abnormal by human social customs. His apparent hostility is most likely a cover for his nervousness regarding this perceived vulnerability.”

Sollux stared at her wordlessly until she flushed a pale jade.

“I, ah, will admit that I have been speaking to Rose at length on the matter. Her brothers are a potential source of many valuable insights into human behavior.”

“Humanth are crathy,” said Sollux. “There. I exthplained it.”

“Well, actually…”

“Can we jutht get out of here before Roxthy cometh back and catcheth uth?” Not waiting for an answer, Sollux stooped to give the comatose Aradia a kiss on the forehead, then strode off up the stairs without a backwards glance. He had just reached the top of the stairs when he heard the lab door close and footsteps racing up behind him. Rather than pause and let Kanaya catch up, he kept walking, passing through the door at the top of the steps and letting it drop moments before she reached it. The sound of a steel door and a jade-blood colliding was amusing enough to keep him grinning all the way into the living room.

“Ah, Sollux,” said Rose, perching on the big armchair by the fireplace like the Condesce on her throne. Next to her, lying on the couch, Dave waved a lazy hand in the air, and sitting on the hearth and shimmering alongside the flames was a young-looking Aradia. “It appears we have made the news.”

Sollux glanced up at the muted TV, where a news program was playing shaky camera-phone footage of the older Strider brother’s arrest. It cut to footage that showed Rose and Roxy at a press conference with Feferi, and something in his upper thorax twanged unpleasantly.

“I suppose it was only a matter of time,” said Kanaya from behind him. Sollux looked around to see her standing in the doorway. There was a slight jade flush still visible across her cartilage nub, and suddenly letting a door fall on her face was less funny than it had been a minute earlier.

“Thorry,” said Sollux, wondering why the fuck he had thought hurting her was a good idea and coming up blank. It wasn’t like he had friends to spare.

Kanaya responded with an icy glare and swept past Sollux, dropping down into the other armchair and leaving him with a choice between standing, sitting on the floor, and trying to get Dave to move his legs. Sollux elected to lean on the back of the couch. Strider had been getting more and more irritating by the day, and he didn’t want to give the insufferable prick any more chances to frustrate him than were absolutely necessary.

“So, now that we are all gathered, may I begin by inquiring as to the outcome of your mission?” asked Rose.

“We busted through security like rhymes are busted orally,” said Dave, lip twitching into a small smirk. “Got super-spy obscurity, to win a little surety-“

Sollux grabbed a cushion from the end of the couch and threw it at his head. “Thut up.”

“Our venture was successful,” said Kanaya, ignoring the two of them as Dave grabbed the cushion and threw it back. Sollux only just caught it with the edge of his psionics before it hit his face. “We now possess two copies of the data Doctors Lalonde and Frankel have gathered on this new narcotic. But I am afraid that you are incorrect in stating that we are all gathered; we are in fact awaiting one more participant for this meeting.”

Sollux’s attention snapped onto her. “What?” he asked, at the same moment as Rose raised an eyebrow and said; “And who might that be?”

Kanaya blushed green and shifted in her seat. “About that,” she said, staring off at the silent TV. “When Aradia mentioned Doctor Lalonde’s theory that it would take someone with resources to create this mysterious drug, it occurred to me that we might need more assistance. Specifically assistance from someone who might have connections to such individuals.”

There was a soft “oh, shit,” from Dave. Sollux groaned.

“Tell me you didn’t,” he said. “Pleathe, jutht tell me thith ith not happening.”

“Why don’t you grow some shame globes, Helmsdork?” said a voice from the other end of the room, beyond the arch that separated it from the little-used dining room. It was disappointingly familiar, and Sollux wished he was surprised as Vriska strolled into the room with her hands wedged in the pockets of her coat and a huge grin on her face.

Aradia’s reaction was immediate; in a burst of crimson light, Vriska flew backwards and stuck to the wall of the sitting room. The translucent wiggler flickered out of existence and reappeared, sweeps older, a few inches in front of the cerulean-blood’s face.

<WHERE IS HE!?> she screamed in a voice that echoed against itself, and Vriska’s hair blew back in a maroon-tinted wind only she could feel. <WHAT DID YOU DO WITH HIM!?>

“Get off me!” Vriska yelled back, baring fangs at her ghostly captor. “Kanaya, you promised! Parley!”

The jade-blood scrambled up out of her chair. “Aradia, please release our guest at once!” she said, hovering near Aradia’s intangible projection.

<Not until she tells me what she did with my friend!> Aradia shouted, twin voices overlaid on one another, the wiggler and the teen. Kanaya shot Sollux a pleading look and he responded with a shrug.

As far as he was concerned, Aradia could do whatever she liked to the bitch.

“What are you gonna do, kill me?” Vriska asked, grinning from between strands of hair. “You really think I’d just come walking in here without telling anyone where I was? Puh-leaze. If I don’t make it back in one piece then you’re all gonna be in soooooooo much trouble, you’ll think last year was a cakewalk!”

<I’m okay with that,> said Aradia. The glow around her intensified, tinting the room a deep, furious red.

“I am not,” said Rose, getting to her feet. “Aradia, I know that you are as yet unused to the customs of this world, so understand that I mean it in the kindest possible way when I say that causing any permanent harm to Vriska will leave us in a world of shit.”

Neither Aradia or Vriska moved, but the light dimmed slightly.

<She took him,> said Aradia. <Zuskon was my friend, when I was kidnapped, and she took him.>

“And we will investigate the matter, later,” said Rose. “For now, if you please, we will be abstaining from physical brutality.”

“Aww, but that’s the fun part,” Dave said. His head turned to look up at Sollux, as relaxed as ever. “Back me up here, bro, I know you like to smash the hell out of things like the crazy alien Jedi Master you always wanted to be deep down.”

“Fuck you, I’m a Thith Lord and you know it,” Sollux told him. “Don’t compare me to anything elthe from your thitty Earth movieth. AA, let her down. We can kill her later when there are no witnetheth.”

He said it lightly, like a joke, but from the continued stare Dave was giving him he hadn’t fooled everyone. Aradia understood too; the maroon light flickered out, and Vriska abruptly dropped to the floor, landing in a slight crouch and straightening into a stance that was almost a dramatic pose. She flicked the hair back out of her eyes with a toss of her head, and Sollux mentally corrected himself; that _was_ a dramatic pose.

“Soooooooo glad we’ve got that sorted out,” she said, flicking her gaze from Aradia to Sollux with a look that said she knew exactly how much they hated her. She strode across the room and paused next to the couch. “Move your legs, dumbass, I want to sit down.”

Dave shifted so his head was pillowed on his arms. “Nah.”

Vriska started to turn an interesting shade of muted cerulean and Sollux considered taking a couple of steps back, but before the increasingly taut situation could explode Kanaya jumped to her feet.

“You can have my chair,” she said. “I was planning to get us some cocoa anyway.”

With one last haughty glare at Dave, Vriska spun on her heel and marched over to the armchair, dropping into it just as Kanaya stepped away. “Urgh. At least one of you has some manners,” she said, pushing her hair behind her ears. Sollux wondered if Dave was going to keep antagonizing her, and if so, whether it was worth hi-fiving the human. Or at least refraining from infecting every electronic device he owned with a puppet-porn virus.

The next few minutes passed in a tense silence, broken only when Rose recovered a bundle of wool and needles from the side table and resumed her knitting. The steady clack-clack-clack was more maddening than any clock; if Sollux hadn’t had Aradia’s steadying presence next to him he might have snapped. As it was, he fantasized about psionically snatching one of the long, thin spikes and firing it through Vriska’s good eye.

After what might have been a sweep but was probably only five or ten minutes, Kanaya returned carrying a tray. Sollux didn’t miss that she headed towards Vriska first, and managed to swipe two mugs with his powers on the way past.

“Here,” he said, levitating one of them over to Dave. It wasn’t like Aradia could drink it, after all.

“Thanks, man,” said Dave, wriggling a little more upright on the couch before taking the drink. “You and me are bros for life, now. Cocoabros.”

Sollux rolled his eyes and sniffed at his drink before taking a cautious sip. He trusted Kanaya, but he wasn’t stupid; while Vriska was there, anybody could be acting for her. He watched the spiderbitch take a mug and grin at Kanaya, who returned the look with a slightly uncertain smile before crossing the room to where Rose sat.

“Thank you,” said the human girl, looking pointedly at Vriska. She set her knitting aside to take the final two mugs from the tray, then passed one back to Kanaya who sat down on the couch in the space Dave had left when moving his feet. “Now that we are all settled, shall we begin?”

“Sure, why not?” said Vriska, swinging her booted feet up onto the coffee table. “So, I hear you losers need my help. I’m guessing it’s something to do with the guy in the dumbass shades getting arrested.”

“Wow, great gueth, what with DV being here and all,” Sollux muttered. Rose fixed him with a look, which he returned steadily. He might have to put up with Vriska, but he wasn’t going to pretend she impressed him.

“You are correct in your estimation. I will also assume you have heard about the drugs found on his person,” Rose said, setting her mug aside and steepling her fingers. “Those drugs are of an unusual formulation. I assume that Kanaya’s purpose in inviting you here was to recruit your aid in uncovering the source of the substance, as this may in turn shed some illumination on why my older brother was found with it on his person.” She glanced briefly at Kanaya, who nodded.

Vriska settled back further into her chair. “What makes you think I know anything?” she asked, the words sliding out like the whisper of a weapon leaving its holster. Sollux bristled, calling his power to his fingertips, ready to strike in an instant.

“You were the one who provided the map that led to the Ringmaster,” said Kanaya. She sipped her own cocoa, a picture of calm. “And, I believe, the location of Aradia’s kidnappers. Whatever other motives you may have had for providing your aid, you cannot argue that you have been an effective source in the past.”

A wicked grin spread across Vriska’s features. “Soooooooo,” she drawled, eyes narrowing. “You need me to do your research for you, fine. I can do that, no problem. What’s it worth to you?”

Sheets of psionic power ran over Sollux’s skin as he growled, hands clenching into claws. “How about me and AA don’t fucking _cull_ you and we call it even?” Beside him, Aradia smiled, something dark simmering in her blank white eyes.

“Woah, chill pill,” Dave whispered, but Sollux didn’t care. Neither did Vriska; she didn’t even look around, just tipped back the last of her drink and slammed down the mug hard enough that it cracked.

“Like I’m scared of you rejects,” she said.

Rose glanced from Vriska to Sollux to Aradia to Kanaya, looking uncertain. Her eyes landed on Dave’s shades for a moment, and Sollux saw the human boy give an almost imperceptible shrug before his sister turned back and said: “I am certain some significant financial compensation can be arranged.”

Vriska sneered. “Money I have, or I can steal,” she said, drumming her claws on the arm of the chair.

“What do you want?” asked Kanaya.

Vriska frowned slightly, seeming to think. “You guys might be really pathetic, but you have power, influence, and friends, right?” Slowly, both Kanaya and Rose nodded, and Vriska’s smirk returned. “Then I want a favor. A big one. One time, any time, I get to call you up and ask for anything I want, no questions asked.”

“Out of the question,” said Rose. It was eerie, seeing her facing down Vriska; as different as they were, there was something fundamentally similar about the pair that made Sollux want to find cover and wait there until the battle was over and the radioactive dust had settled.

“Then you get squat,” said Vriska, rising to her feet. “Thanks for the cocoa. It didn’t totally suck.”

“Wait!”

Vriska paused and turned back, to see Kanaya leaning over the arm of the couch. “Whilst Rose is correct that we cannot accept the terms you offered, perhaps some negotiation is in order. We may be able to provide a favor so long as certain conditions are attached.”

Vriska folded her arms. “Such as?”

“Nothing that is immoral by the standards of the one performing the favor,” Kanaya said. When Vriska said nothing, she glanced back around at the rest of the room.

“Nothing illegal, either,” Rose added.

“Nothin' that will give anyone nightmares,” Dave said. “Because, you know, I gotta make sure and protect the nocturnal dignity of these fine ladies.”

“Fuck you,” said Sollux. Dave waved at him, and he turned to Vriska. “No mind control. Not on the perthon doing the favor, not in their prethenthe, nothing.”

Vriska looked between them, then rolled her eyes. “You took out all the good bits.”

“Those are our terms,” said Kanaya. “Take them or leave.”

A half-smile tugged at the side of Vriska’s mouth. “Sure, why not. I guess I can try out this ‘charity’ thing, since you need my help so badly.” She turned her head to look at the TV screen, where a human man Sollux vaguely recognized as being a prominent Purist was making a very solemn speech to the camera. “You got any good movies in this dump?”

As one, everyone in the room looked at Aradia. For the briefest instant, her eyes flashed red, and then without even a flicker of warning she vanished.

“I’m going to get thome freth air,” said Sollux, pushing away from the back of the couch and walking to the door as fast as he possibly could before anyone- Vriska- managed to point out that he usually avoided fresh air like it was toxic gas. The front door was made of heavy wood and slammed satisfyingly behind him, but not even that small act of defiance could banish the grim mood that had come across him. Finding a garden seat under a small ornamental shelter- it had flowers growing up and over it, but it was as close to being safely inside as he was getting- he sat down and pulled out his smartphone, planning to distract himself with the internet.

To his surprise, as soon as he unlocked it Pesterchum informed him that Karkat was online. He was sure the guy had been avoiding him ever since inadvertently telling him to betray Feferi for Aradia. Okay, that was not exactly what Karkat had said and he hadn’t even known what Sollux was asking about, but Sollux was certain that wouldn’t stop KK from blaming himself for it. 

Really, he owed it to the guy to check in and make sure they were still friends.

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 12:23 --  
TA: hey kk  
TA: you know youre going two flunk out of hiigh 2chool iif you skiip like thii2  
TA: unle22 you have your cell on under your desk iin whiich ca2e you are clearly a paragon of re2pon2iibiiliity  
TA: not that ii giive a 2hiit eiither way but 2iince youre biig iinto thii2 educatiion 2tuff ii thought iid mentiion iit  
TA: kk?  
CG: FICK YU  
CG: FYK OF CAPTR  
TA: ...  
TA: wow kk  
TA: what are you channeliing rx now  
CG: YE2  
CG: I AM CHANANANELATING UR SPID HHAMAN LUSUS  
CG: AND HER PANFICKED TYPPIN QIRK  
CG: *PAINFUCK  
CG: *PANFLICKED  
CG: HOLLY GRBFUKN SHITMONKYS WHY R TH KEYS KEEP MOBOIN  
TA: holy 2hiit kk  
TA: ii mean you u2ually talk utter garbage  
TA: but thii2 ii2 at lea2t 200% more iincomprehen2ible  
CG: DON YO MEAN 222%  
CG: OR 2222%  
CG: 22222222222222222222222  
TA: that number of diigiit2 i2 not even diivii2iible by 2  
TA: kk are you drunk?  
CG: NO.  
CG: IN ODER TO B DRUN I WOD HAVE 2 B INTNOXSICATED ON HUMAN ALCHOHOL  
CG: AND I AM NOT  
CG: BECSE BY SUPREROR TROLLSH THANKPIN IS NOT AFAFACTID BI SUCH PAFETIC SUBNANCES.  
CG: SO FICUN THERE. (:B  
TA: holy fuckiing mothergrub you are drunk  
CG: NO  
TA: ye2  
CG: NO  
TA: ye2  
CG: NI  
TA: kk you ju2t faiiled two 2pell a two letter word  
CG: OK FIIN I AM FUCKEN DRANK  
CG: S NOT LELLEGAL OR ANYTHIN  
TA: only because we havent figured out how two speciifiically re2triict 2poiiled milk wiithout al2o re2triictiing ac22e22 the fre2h non-iintoxiicatiing diietary 2taple kind  
TA: not two mentiion there i2 liiterally no way you are not 2kiipiing 2chool riight now whiich ii2 eiither iilegal or hell2 of clo2e two iit  
CG: OKY YEZ BIUT I HAVA REDON  
TA: 2ure you do  
CG: FOR UR INFOMANON I AM AVOVOING A TENT SQATIN UNYCYCYL FLUCKING CLOWN WOSHIPN SLIMEPAN PIECE F SHIT.  
CG: BCOS HE IS ANASSOLE  
TA: riight  
TA: ii offiiciially have no fuckiing clue what your deal ii2 riight now  
TA: and ii refu2e to deal wiith your melodramatiic hoofbea2t 2hiit  
TA: so ii dont care what your problem ii2 wiith gz  
TA: ii am goiing two call hiim and let you two 2ort thii2 out  
CG: HA  
CG: AHAHA  
CG: LOK AT HOW TIKLED MY HUMOR APALAT IS  
CG: I AM MAKIN THE LAUFTR NOISE  
TA: hes your moiiraiil kk  
CG: NO HEZ NOT  
CG: I HAV NO QADRANTS FILED  
CG: ESPSECALLY NOT WITH THAT NOOKLINKING GLOBGUSLING WALKIN BULGE IN SHITY FACEPANT  
TA: waiit you guy2 broke up  
TA: what the fuck ii thought you were liike forever or 2omethiing  
CG: AGAN I MAK THE HUMOR NOIS  
CG: AHAHAHAH  
CG: ALSO  
CG: FCUK YOU  
\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] is now offline --

Sollux stared at the screen for a few minutes, uncertain. He felt like he should do something, but if Karkat didn’t have a moirail who was he supposed to get in touch with? Maybe his lusus-guy, Egbert? But he didn’t exactly have a number for him, and although he could probably find it out with some hacking that sounded like a lot of effort.

 _Wait, stupid, there’s another Egbert._ Rolling his eyes at himself for not thinking of it immediately, Sollux scrolled down the grayed-out contacts until he found one that he had gained over the summer and never touched since. The guy could pick up the message when he came online.

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering ghostyTrickster [GT] at 12:31 --   
TA: hey ju2t to let you know   
TA: kk fiinally 2uccumbed two hii2 own iinate 2tupiidiity and got 2ma2hed out of hiis 2kull on bad miilk   
TA: you miight want two check he2 not dead or anythiing   
TA: ok that2 iit iim out   
\-- twinArmageddons [TA] ceased pestering ghostyTrickster [GT] at 12:32 --

“You know, there’s a whoooooooole garden out here you could be enjoying. If you weren’t too much of a geek.”

Sollux looked up from his cellphone screen to see Vriska leaning against the edge of the shelter, smirking at him. He just barely managed to rein in the impulse to throw her across the lawn, and rubbed at his temple with his free hand. His head was aching again.

“Get lotht,” he told her, pretending to turn his attention back to his cellphone.

A moment later he felt the icy-cold fingers skittering across the inside of his skull, and the flimsy wooden shelter shook with the force as he slammed his head back into it. Pain flooded outwards, splinters of agony fiercer than his headaches stabbing into his thinkpan, but it was worth it to see Vriska wince and feel her mental touch recede.

“Better luck nectht time, bitth,” Sollux muttered, his vision still blurry. To his surprise, Vriska grinned at him.

“Glad to see you’re finally learning, loser,” she said. Struck dumb, Sollux gawped at her, and she snorted. “You’re still slow. One matesprit in a coma and you still let someone get a hold on you. Is the Heiress ever going to speak to you again?”

This time Sollux didn’t bother controlling himself; his psionics flashed, red and blue light shoving at Vriska- and short-circuiting in a sudden burst of pain from the back of his head.

“OW! FUCK!” Sollux grabbed for the sore spot, not even caring that he could hear Vriska laughing.

“Better luck next time, bitch,” she said, and by the time Sollux had managed to get his eyes to focus she was gone. Her question- would Feferi ever forgive him- lingered behind her, like a bad taste in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Saturday 31st May.
> 
> For Sollux's Earth musical preferences, I think there are two angles of approach. HUNRonin suggested western classical music. I like this idea even if it's more usual to go with electronic or techno music for Sollux- partly for novelty value and partly for all the musical/mathematical theory surrounding it as a genre. I can imagine him particularly liking music that shifts between major and minor because of the duality of it- [like this piece by Brahms.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_Q4ehFcwDA) That said I do still like the association of Sollux with more electronic music, and [I will totally take the excuse to link to Daft Punk.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_b1j6trfa8)
> 
> Of course, there can only be one song that he loves above all others, [and I'm pretty sure it's this one.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BROWqjuTM0g) For reasons that should be obvious. ;)


	10. ==> Be The Huntress On The Prowl

### CHAPTER NINE ==> Be The Huntress On The Prowl

Nepeta Leijon stalked towards her prey, her breathing slow and her steps steady to reduce the noise of her sneakers against the sidewalk. She moved in a half-crouch, her long shirt brushing against the concrete slabs, and taut muscles rippled under fabric as she tensed to pounce.

“Hi, Nepeta,” said Tavros, without turning. Nepeta paused and glanced around; it took her a few seconds to see the gull perched on a nearby building, its beady little eyes fixed on her. With a small growl she leaped forward anyway, her arms reaching over the back of Tavros’ chair to grab him in a slightly clumsy hug.

“Rawr!” she said, dangling over the back of the four-wheeled device- and one of his horns- to rub her cheek against his.

Tavros giggled. “Oh, no,” he said, fighting to keep a straight face. “It appears, that I, that is to say, the noble hoofbeast, have been captured, by a, dangerous predator!” He wiggled his head a little, and the horn under Nepeta’s chest lifted her up. “Perhaps, I should toss it off?”

“Mrow!” Nepeta squirmed and managed to slip back off the horn. “The mighty huntress greets her furiend, and leaps to the ground just in time to avoid being tossed!” She released Tavros and scooted around the chair. “She lashes her tail from side to side beclaws that was not furry nice, but understanding that he was surpurrised she mews in greeting.”

Tavros nodded. “The, hoofbeast, who is me, is relieved to see that it is his friend, that is you, and not some other huntress who might eat him. He, stomps his hooves, which are sharp and the thing, that he is named for, to greet her in return.”

“If you two would conclude this horseplay, perhaps we could proceed about our business?” said Equius, strolling up behind Tavros and frowning at Nepeta. “I do not like this neighborhood. It is insalubrious.”

Curious, Nepeta’s head shot up and she began to study the street. She stared in interest at apartment windows shaded over with thin curtains or boarded up, crumbling walls sprayed with colorful human lettering too distorted to read, and the shops- open and closed- that were fortified with heavy bars on the windows. Most of the shop signs were damaged or defaced somehow, but very few of the rude words were in Alternian.

Her attention drew some returned interest; a group of humans sitting on the front steps of an apartment building were staring baldly back at her. Nepeta quickly ducked her head and turned her back on all of them, facing Tavros and Equius so that only they could see her grinning.

“Looks inpurresting,” she said, and giggled when Equius’ lips tightened. Tavros gave her a small smile, but she noticed him giving the humans on the steps a slightly nervy glance, and his hand wrapped around the small stick that controlled his four-wheel device. Nepeta hadn’t seen this one before outside his house, and it fascinated her how easy it made it for Tavros to just whirr along, but she could see why he usually preferred the manual one. If he didn’t have Equius’ promise to pick him up and run, chair and all, in the event of trouble, then he wouldn’t be able to make a speedy getaway.

“We should wait, for Terezi,” said Tavros, keeping his voice low. “We don’t, want to hang around too close, to the place we are actually going, as opposed to, um, the place we just are.”

Equius seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding. “Very well. We shall wait for a further five minutes, after which time we will move on to prevent any undesirable expressions of violent intent.”

Nepeta sighed and, folding her legs up under her, dropped to the ground to wait. She didn’t miss that the humans were still focused on them and whispering to one another; her back prickled knowing they were there, and she found herself watching Tavros watching them.

“The huntress is curious and twitches her whiskers; she asks if there is a purroblem brewing,” she said, eyes fixed on Tavros. Startled, his head snapped around back to her, and one of the gulls settled on the nearby roof let out a loud squawk.

“Um, no problem,” he stammered, but Nepeta noted that the large seabirds stayed exactly where they were. Checking on Equius, she noted that her moirail was covered in a fine blue sheen of sweat. He was pacing, too, and as he passed her she reached out and snagged her claws in the top of his boot. His foot caught, Equius looked down at her quizzically. Nepeta beamed up at him, and the slight loosening of tension in his shoulders was all she needed to let her know she was successful.

“She’s, here,” said Tavros, a few seconds before Terezi turned the corner. The blind girl was leading with a white cane, the tip of it tap-tapping along the ground, and when she came into range she stopped and leaned on it with a broad grin.

“The mighty dragon roars a greeting to her comrades!” she declared, loud enough for the rest of the street to hear. One of the eavesdropping humans burst into muffled laughter, and the rest looked away with grins and shaking heads. Nepeta bounded to her feet and over to Terezi, stopping close enough for the other girl to take a long, deep sniff and orient towards her.

“The huntress greets her scaled furiend with a mutual sniffing of the air,” said Nepeta, and let out a theatrical sniff of her own. Her cartilage nub filled with the smells of car fumes and sea air and alien spices, and she wrinkled her nose in a small sneeze. Terezi chuckled and started jabbing at her legs with the end of the cane.

“You have much to learn, my young apprentice,” she said, and cackled. Then she pulled her cane back and straightened, nodding towards Equius. “Glad you’re no longer grounded.”

Equius harrumphed. “I see the same is true of you. Whilst I appreciate your expression of solidarity, I foaly expect this excursion to return us to that shoddy state of affairs.”

Terezi stared at him from behind red-tinted shades, shook her head, and tutted. “Mocking a blind girl, Zahhak?” Her cane swung up to wave in front of his face, back and forth like a slitherbeast. “Shame on you.”

Equius folded his arms and grit his jaw, trying to hide the sudden sheen of sweat on his skin. “I refuse to be drawn into your ludicrous schemes, Pyrope. We both know that you are entirely capable of- stop that at once!”

Terezi cackled as her cane bounced off his thigh. “Take your righteously deserved drubbing like a troll!” she said, swinging the cane in again. Equius’ fingers twitched, and Nepeta caught his eye and shook her head. The two of them watched one another for a moment, a silent exchange passing between them.

_It is hardly as if she requires the cane. A simple application of brute STRONGNESS would suffice to halt her assault upon my person, and it would not cause her any physical harm._

_Don’t you dare! It’s not hurting mew and she’s trying to purrovoke you. I will hiss and bite if you don’t stay clawm._

Equius sighed and remained still, letting Nepeta step in and put a gentle hand over the cane. Terezi paused, then nodded and swung the stick around to point in the rough direction of their destination.

“Onwards!” she crowed, taking off like an arrow from a bow across the road. Nepeta and Equius glanced over at Tavros, who shrugged apologetically.

“I think, uh, maybe, she spent too much time, um, inside, lately?” he suggested.

“She is acting distinctly foolishly,” Equius replied, letting the other boy take the lead and roll down to a dip in the sidewalk to cross. Nepeta, torn between wanting to get ahead and see their destination and wanting to stay beside her friend and moirail, darted ahead and back and almost missed Terezi turning down a short alleyway between two buildings. Skipping nimbly through the trash in the alley- and kicking the worst of it aside for Tavros- Nepeta had traveled almost twice as far as the others before she reemerged to see the place they had come to investigate.

She had been expecting something more extreme; a blackened husk of a building, its charred skeleton exposed to the world. The former club was instead mostly intact, at least from the street. Its windows were shattered, their frames scorched and warped, and yellow police tape dangled from every entrance and exit. According to Terezi, the forensic investigators had declared themselves done with the crime scene the night before, but it looked as though the place had been deserted for longer.

As Tavros rolled up and Nepeta felt Equius’ strong presence fall into place over her shoulder, Terezi lifted her head and sniffed at the air. “No accelerant,” she said quietly.

“That, um, fits with the, supposition, which is being used, by the police, er, right now,” said Tavros. “That it was a psionic, I mean.”

Equius frowned at the building. To anyone else, he might have looked like he was just being a grumpypuss, but Nepeta could tell that he was concerned. “I do not like the implications of a drug that can produce such an extreme and volatile psychic reaction,” he said.

Terezi tilted her head. “Really?” she asked, eyebrows rising. “Not even considering the possible benefits of supercharged psionics? We could have a hundred potential Helmsmen and Ansibles for every one there is now.”

Equius folded his arms across his chest and glowered down at her. “That was the purpose for which mind honey was developed,” he said. “And I should not be forced to remind one with such lurid and litigious interests as yourself of the outcome of those experiments.”

Her mouth curving up into a smile, Terezi nodded, and her head turned back towards the burned-out club. “I’ve seen footage of honey rampages. The damage here smells about right, but something’s sour. Boosters blow up their hives, not themselves; this is new, alright.”

Nepeta’s nose twitched as she sniffed at the air again, but she didn’t smell even a fraction of what Terezi was talking about. To her, the air just smelled like normal, with a faint overlay of old smoke and ash. Pounce would be disappointed in her kit. Nepeta slumped in on herself a little, only to feel a gentle hand come to rest on her shoulder. She looked up into the solemn stare of her moirail, and responded by rubbing the back of her cheek against his hand and smiling when his cheeks flushed faintly blue.

“So, how do we, get in?” Tavros asked. “The door, appears to be, full of rubble.”

Nepeta grinned, her eyes narrowing at the building. “The huntress crouches low in the long grass, ready to begin the hunt,” she said, taking a couple of steps forward. “Her purride follow in her pawprints as she stalks forward.”

The others took the hint and started to move after her; with a brief backwards glance to be sure they were keeping up, Nepeta led the way across the road and past some broken yellow tape into an alley that ran alongside the building. An open doorway, dark and gaping, beckoned to her. She bounded up to it and turned to grin as the others approached.

“Okay, I am, a little embarrassed now,” said Tavros. He squinted at the door. “Since, me getting through that, seems like a thing that, um, won’t happen easily, and also since the building, uh, might not be all that strong, for my chair, I think I’ll stay out here?” His eyes flickered briefly upwards, and Nepeta saw the gulls settle in on the building opposite. “I can, keep watch.”

Terezi gave a nod, and Nepeta and Equius shared a look of relief. Trying to get Tavros through the burned interior would have been difficult at best, but none of them were going to question his credentials as a watchman- or his ability to look out for himself, alone, in a bad part of town. They’d all seen how he dealt with danger first-hand, and there was no question: not even Equius would be safer if they left him.

Nepeta stepped aside to let Terezi and her sharp tracker’s nose into the building first, and gave Tavros a little wave before she followed. “See mew!”

He grinned back and returned the wave. “Um, see mew, too!”

Equius gave her a sharp look as she stepped through the door, but before she could really wonder about it she was struck with the smell. With a small squeak she covered her lower face with the edge of her sleeve, but it didn’t do much; everything around her was charred and burned, and even nearly a week later the air was solid with the stink.

Terezi watched her discomfort with a strained smile. “We should hurry,” she said, her own cartilage nub all wrinkled up. “This place could collapse on us at any moment."

The three of them picked their way slowly down the corridor, silent apart from the crunching of their feet on the charred mess of the floor and the dull taps of Terezi's cane against the surroundings. The only light came from the open doorway behind them, and that soon faded; faced with near-perfect darkness, Nepeta reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a small flashlight. She'd bought it for a dollar at the convenience store and as soon as she switched it on it was clear that it was too dim to be much use to a human. For two trolls, it was perfect, and they made their way passed the fire-damaged doors of two bathrooms before stepping out into a large, roughly-square room.

"Now where-" Equius began, but he was held up as Terezi raised a hand, her head swinging to face one of the dark corners of the room. Nepeta followed with the flashlight, and its beam flashed across the edge of a raised booth at the focal point of the room.

"We're not alone," she said quietly. Nepeta was about to ask what she meant, when something amongst the rubble hissed. A head, topped with a tangled mess of black hair and a pair of slightly hooked horns, appeared in the empty window of air that looked into the booth. The torch flashed off eyes that were almost pure juvenile gray. With an angry growl and a flash of motion the strange troll bounded up onto the wide machine bank that divided the booth from the rest of the room. It crouched there, wild eyed and fingers hooked into talons, and its attention flickered between all three of them, one after another. Without even thinking about it Nepeta checked over its mismatched layers of clothing for a symbol, but she wasn't surprised when she found nothing.

"Cease this behoofiour at once and identify yourself," said Equius, his voice loud in the previously silent room. The only reply from the stranger was bared teeth and a loud snarl.

"Feral," said Terezi softly, her head not turning away from the stranger even as she adjusted her grip on the cane. "I saw enough of them on the ship. Any ideas? I don't want to drive it towards Tavros."

Ignoring Equius' aborted attempt to grab her as she passed, Nepeta took a step towards the feral troll and forced herself not to react when it reared up and hissed at her.

"What is this folly?" Equius whispered behind her. She could feel the worry pouring off him. "Nepeta, get back here this instant! This course of action is excessively reckless and dangerous!"

"I meow what I'm doing," Nepeta replied, not taking her eyes off the stranger. She lifted her gaze to meet the feral troll's, and as she had expected it returned the stare completely. One of its hands raised in warning, and Nepeta hissed at it and took another step forward. The feral troll growled at her, but she silently kept its gaze and took another couple of steps.

That was enough for the feral troll; with a growl, it leaped off its perch in a diving attack towards Nepeta. She had been expecting the attack- provoking it, even- and caught its outstretched arms as it lunged towards her. The chipped and damaged claws barely pricked her arms as she let the creature's own momentum carry it over her head, flipping them around until they landed sprawling on the ground, her on top and grasping its wrists.

Quickly she shifted her position, sitting over its legs and pinning its arms with her hands. Just in the nick of time, as the feral troll recovered from the shock of having its attack diverted and started thrashing and screaming under her. Powerful muscles, made stronger by panic, tried to pull out from her grip. Claws flexed to try and cut her, and it lifted its head and snapped uselessly with its fangs. This close, she could see the damage on its skin- the half-healed cuts and bruises that showed olive under the surface, the small scars and scrapes and the damage on the knuckles that came from fighting and running and hiding without rest.

"Nepeta!" shouted Equius, and she heard his footsteps approaching rapidly.

"No! Stay back!" she yowled, and the urgency in her voice was enough to hold her moirail still. She was glad of that; it was lucky that this feral kid was younger than her, that it weren't fighting smart, that it wasn't any stronger than she was. She was barely managing to hold on, and if her prisoner panicked any more then she didn't think she would be able to keep up the pin.

Quickly, before the feral troll could take advantage of the motion to tear her throat out, she bobbed her head down and licked it on the forehead. It took a moment for her action to sink through its crazed panic, but when it did the feral troll paused for an instant in shock. It was long enough for Nepeta to bob down and lick its face again.

There was a long pause as the feral troll stared up at her, then it started tugging for freedom again. This time there was less desperation in the pull, and Nepeta jumped back. The moment it was released the feral troll streaked off and dived into the relative cover and safety of the booth. Nepeta stood, tongue dangling as she tried to get the nasty taste out of her mouth.

She looked around to see Equius blinking in shock and Terezi grinning.

"What- how-?" her moirail stammered.

Nepeta grinned at him and tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. "Purrlease," she said. "The huntress lived far out on the furinges of settled lands, and was pawfectly content to hunt her prey in wilder places. She has met many ferals befur, and she knows they are like scared cubs. You just have to show them you could cull them, then let them run."

Equius glanced back over to the booth, where a pair of gray eyes were still peering at them from over the counter. "That seems a less than exemplary plan. You could have been badly harmed."

Terezi cackled, and the feral troll flinched back. "Better than chasing it out or culling it." She stepped away from the booth. "Come on. If there's anything to find here, it'll be upstairs."

They found the stairs at the far end of the room, half concealed by charred chunks of ceiling that Equius shoved aside with ease. Terezi went up first, prodding each step with her cane before stepping on it, until all three of them were standing on the upstairs landing. It was still dark, but the damage here wasn't so bad; the beam of Nepeta's flashlight crossed walls painted dark purple. There were holes in the floor, jagged maws lined with torn edges from the deep red carpet, and Nepeta placed her feet carefully as she paced around listening for a telltale splintering sound.

"So what do you think?" asked Terezi, turning her head to sniff at the air. "Which way first?"

Equius frowned in thought. "Perhaps we should split up," he said, glancing down the corridor. "We will cover ground more swiftly, and get out sooner."

Terezi tapped her cane against the ground again in a pointed gesture. "Do you believe you can move about safely?"

"I've got it," Nepeta called, pulling her foot back from a floorboard that felt shaky. "The huntress treads with soft paws."

Terezi nodded, then jabbed Equius in the upper thorax with the end of her cane. "Listen to her," she said, then whirled and started tapping her way down the corridor, dancing around the edge of a large hole and humming.

Nepeta waited for Equius to join her, and smiled up at him. "Make paw to follow me purrfectly," she told him, and set out in the opposite direction to Terezi. She pretended to skip casually across the damaged floor, but in reality her ears were twitching, listening to the creaks as Equius placed his feet carefully in her wake. She heard his breathing become slower, more steady, and smiled. Tai Chi had been very helpful for her moirail. Equius was far more graceful than he had been in the past, and something fearful inside her bloodpusher relaxed.

"Nepeta."

She paused in the doorway of the room she had been leading them to, and turned. Equius was standing behind her, a sheen of sweat shining in the beam of light, and from the way his jaw was moving she thought he might be grinding his teeth.

"What's wrong?" she asked, taking a step back towards him. "The meowbeast rubs her cheek along her meowrail's side to show her concern."

Equius sighed, and although she couldn't see his eyes behind the shades his head briefly twitched in the direction Terezi had gone before settling back on her. "Nepeta, I wish to talk with you about your behoofiour regarding Nitram." Nepeta tilted her head, puzzled, and her moirail stiffened in that way that meant he was trying not to make careless gestures. "I have noticed in our recent encounters that you and he are becoming- close."

Nepeta nodded, still puzzled by his obvious distress. "Well, yes. The kind hoofbeast is a good furiend! He and the huntress have many inturests in common and beclaws of that enjoy furolicking together."

Equius swallowed. "Nepeta, is is only friendship? Because I- that is, the proximity of the two of you-" He began to sweat harder, drips of blue falling into the dust on the carpet underfoot. "Nepeta, I insist on being informed if you are stabling flushed feelings for Nitram!"

A small yowl of surprise escaped Nepeta. "Flushed?"

Her moirail blushed so deeply that his skin appeared blue. "As your moirail, it behoofs me to remain aware of the state of your quadrants and your interest in others, particularly when that interest is directed at unsuitable individuals. I must also admit to a certain... curiosity as to what happened to your interest in Vantas."

Heat and color started rising in Nepeta's own face, and not just from embarrassment. With a hiss, she turned and bounded into the deserted office, making a line straight to the desk in the center of the room. By the time Equius followed her in, she was already rifling through the papers in the drawer.

"Nepeta, it was merely an inquiry. I did not mean to cause offense..."

Her head shot up to glare at him. "And how do mew think it's not rude to call Tavros unsuitable? Or tell me off because you think I might like him that way? And bringing up Karkitty like that even though you know I miss him pawfully!" She hissed again, wishing that her tail would lash instead of just lying limp against her leg. "The meowbeast sniffs at her meowrail like he smells pawful and demands that he explain himself! She thought that he was done with this hemospectrum kibble and that Tavros was his furiend, too!"

Equius sighed and walked over to the filing cabinet across the room, opening the top drawer and examining the contents. "This is nothing to do with blood caste, and I consider Nitram an excellent ally and pleasant enough company. I was simply concerned that you might be developing a STRONG attraction to him when he is so clearly unsuited to the role."

"And why is that?" Nepeta asked, setting a stack of boring papers covered in numbers down on the tabletop and glaring at her moirail.

Equius sighed. "Is it really necessary for me to spell this out for you?" He turned away from the filing cabinet to look at her, his face cast into odd shadows by the flashlight. "A matesprit should be physically capable," he said, face as solemn as his voice. "For all his exemplary qualities, Nitram is an insufficient prospect, and I do not like to see you take the risk."

Nepeta's hand clenched, her claws drawing deep gashes in the surface of the desk. "The huntress lashes her tail at the musclebeast. She thinks he is being furry silly! This is not Alternia, and evfurn if she did like Tavros _that_ way it wouldn't matter that he was hurt! There aren't any drones here and you know he can purrtect himself!"

Equius opened his mouth, then paused before closing it again. He turned back to the filing cabinet and began to go through the drawers again. With a small huff, Nepeta turned back to her desk. Her eyes widened when she saw the small bird sitting on top of the pile of files.

"Tavros?" she asked. The bird chirped, and Equius looked around. The bird chirped again, and took off; Nepeta dropped the papers she was holding and bounded after it. From the creaking of the floor behind her, Equius was doing likewise. They were almost running when they reached the top of the stairs, Nepeta taking as many risks as she dared with the dangerous floor while trying to keep up with the bird. As she started down the steps a second flash of feathers shot over her shoulder, and Terezi came darting around the corner.

"You too?" she asked, running past Nepeta. Her feet were hardly touching the steps. With a flash of competitive energy Nepeta jumped over the banister and landed next to a pile of ceiling. Terezi was only just behind her and they raced back across the remains of the dance floor, ignoring the suspicious eyes that tracked them from the shattered booth in the corner.

Running to the exit felt familiar, like leaving a cave to stand in sunlight. The moment fresh air hit her cartilage nub Nepeta realized just how much smoke and ash she had been smelling in the air, and her chest swelled with the clean breaths before she saw the reason Tavros had called them back.

The human was huge, even bigger than Equius. Short-cropped brown hair looked almost like a mossy growth on top of his head, and small, pale eyes were fixed on Tavros. Everything about his stance said menace, but as Nepeta stepped into the sunlight her friend turned around and gave her a calm smile.

"Hi, Nepeta," he said. "And Terezi. This gentleman, um, just showed up?"

The human looked around at them, and Nepeta could tell the moment Equius stepped out because his expression changed from one of irritation to assessment of a threat. Nepeta wrinkled her nose. She'd met too many humans who thought that someone had to be big to be dangerous. They usually learned different- after all, it wasn't like Equius could risk doing anything that might really hurt them, which meant she usually dealt with those scuffles.

"Four of you," the man said, looking sour like the words tasted nasty. "That's the lot, from what the neighborhood's sayin'. Cops are gonna love hearing about you goat-eaters trespassin' on their crime scene."

"The scene is closed," said Terezi, pacing out of the doorway. Nepeta didn't miss the way he stepped back to avoid being flanked. "We were just exploring."

"It was still trespassing," the man replied. "That's private property, little girl, and I happen to know the owner."

"Um, really?" Tavros tilted his head. "Do you, know a man who worked here, called Dirk?"

The man looked confused for a moment, then snorted. "Oh. You're lookin' for Strider." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cellphone. "Shoulda figured some of his fuckin' druggies would come sniffin' around."

There was a blur of motion, and before he could dial the phone vanished out of his hands; the human stared in shock at Equius, who had gone from the door to standing in front of him in two strides, and paled as Nepeta's moirail slowly closed his hand and crushed the cellphone into shards.

"You... that..." The man turned an interesting pinkish color. "Oh, you are gonna pay for that, you piece of shit!"

"No, I am not." Equius opened his hand and let the fragments of phone drop out onto the ground. "Perhaps under different circumstances I would feel some regret for taking such an excessive action, but I do not appreciate your lewd assumptions. You have insulted myself and my moirail, and if I colt crush your foolish skull between my hands without consequence then I assure you, there is no lack of desire or physical capability to prevent me from doing so."

The human man glared at him, and with a wet splat spat a gob of something yellow-white onto Equius' boots. Nepeta darted forward; her hand brushed Equius' arm just as her moirail was tensing, and his head turned to glance at her on instinct. She could see the moment he relaxed, and as she pulled him back a step she looked over at Terezi and gave a slight nod.

She would have liked to take the human apart herself, piece by bloody piece, but she needed to calm Equius. Her hand in her moirail's, she stepped back, letting Terezi take the lead.

The human snorted and tried to step after them, but was stopped by the scuffed end of a white cane, pointing up under his chin.

“So,” said Terezi, her grin growing. “While we are talking about reasons to be here, let's discuss yours. Because I happen to know a couple of detectives who are _very interested_ in this case, and they do say that the culprit often returns to the scene of the crime.”

The man turned shiny red. Nepeta watched with interest out the side of her eye, still running her hand down Equius' arm over and over. She could hear the sound of his teeth grinding over the nearby traffic.

“I should snap your damn cane-” the man said, looming over Terezi. His hands flexed, but before he could reach out there was a growl from the far end of the alley. A ragged-looking dog jumped up onto the dumpster pressed against the next-door building. It wasn't a large dog, exactly, but its teeth were bared in a snarl and the shadows behind it held more gleaming eyes.

The human's eyes flickered to Tavros, who had bowed his head and was sweating. “What the fuck is he doing?” The man took a step back. “You set those on me, I'll call the cops.”

“No, you won't,” said Terezi, with a gleeful inflection that made it clear exactly why she believed that. Her cane shifted, swinging around to block the man's exit. “Now, all we want is a civil conversation, like good citizens of Los Angeles. My name is Terezi Pyrope. What's yours?”

The man looked between all of them- Terezi grinning, Tavros frowning in concentration, Nepeta gently soothing Equius who was still glowering- and swallowed. “Ray Arden,” he said. “And I got every right to be here. I was the bouncer at this place.”

The dog on the dumpster growled again. “We also have every right to be here,” said Terezi. “This alley is public ground.” She raised an eyebrow, challenging the man to point out that they had been in the building. He didn't.

“We are engaged in an investigation of the events surrounding this incident,” said Equius. His voice rumbled through his body and into Nepeta's arm, and if she could still feel the tension bunched up in his muscles then she wasn't going to mention it. “What do you know?”

“I know that Strider was no fucking good,” the man snapped. “Him and that creepy puppet of his. I followed that freak once, and you know where he went? Some abandoned house over on Ribera Street. Who hangs out in abandoned houses?”

Terezi cocked her head. “You followed him, but he's the freak? Mr Arden, that could be called stalking.”

“You know what?” The man stepped in towards them. “I don't gotta take this shit from you goat-eating-”

The dog let out a vicious bark and jumped down from the dumpster. The man blanched as white as a lusus and bolted, battering Terezi's cane aside to leave the alley. Three dogs streaked forward to the end of the alley, barking angrily, but stopped at the edge of the street.

“Well,” said Terezi, her smile fading. “That was interesting.”

“Sorry,” said Tavros. The dogs stopped barking and, whimpering in confusion, milled back past the group. Nepeta hissed at one as it passed, but Tavros fished some tupperware out of his bag and set it down on the floor. It was empty of everything but juices, but the dogs started scrapping over it nonetheless. “I just, didn't want to listen to him, any more.”

“That is entirely reasonable,” said Equius. He was breathing slowly and very, very carefully. “I could have ripped his head off.”

“It is a good thing you did not,” said Terezi, still staring thoughtfully in the direction the human had gone. “That was a very interesting conversation.”

Tavros smiled, showing a sly hint of sharp fang. “I, would certainly say so, yes. Now, we have a new place, to investigate, which we know, where it is.”

Nepeta looked over at Equius, who shook his head. "Not tonight," he said. "Nepeta, we must return before curfew if we are to retain any semblance of freedom."

Terezi's face fell. "Me too," she said, frowning. Tavros ducked his head in a small nod that indicated he, too, had to get back to his guardians. "Tomorrow, then," the teal-blooded girl said, nodding as though it were already decided.

Equius turned and started walking away. Nepeta ran to catch him up, then paused and turned back to wave goodbye to Tavros. Already starting to follow Terezi, her friend only gave her the briefest wave in return, but his smile more than made up for it. Equius, who had paused when she did, saw the exchange but said nothing of it for the entire return journey to Prospit House.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Sunday 8th June.
> 
> Urgh, last minute edits while feverish. Not sure this is gonna turn out okay. :/
> 
> Nepeta's musical tastes: well, I was thinking that [Nyan Cat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QH2-TGUlwu4) was a good choice, because cats, but HUNRonin thinks that hard metal is the way to go here- I guess more fantasy/nature style metal, like [Forests in Fire and Gold](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uk0HkbUMS8M) by Drudkh. I dunno. Feelings from people?


	11. ==> Be The Dreamer With The Dilemma

### CHAPTER TEN ==> Be The Dreamer With The Dilemma

Jade Harley shifted on the couch, looking for a position that didn’t make her butt ache. It was a big, squishy, man-eating piece of furniture, but somehow whatever way she sat on it the thing managed to become hard and unyielding as stone within minutes. By her feet, Bec raised his head and poked his nose into her ankle. Sighing, Jade leaned forward to scratch between his ears, which did nothing for her poor aching rear end.

After four days of Betty Crocker baking and Betty Crocker family trips and Betty Crocker corporate tours, Jade was coming to the conclusion that her grandmother’s whole life was like the couch; comfy-looking, but steel below the surface. This was the first time since arriving that she’d had the time to herself to actually think, but despite spending the best part of an hour staring out of a panoramic window into a dramatically gray and stormy sea Jade was no closer to reaching a decision.

 _This would be easier if they had a firing range,_ she thought to herself, wistfully imagining how much simpler it would be to get some proper thinking done if she had somewhere to unwind. _Maybe I should make a list of pros and cons._

Pro: With Crockercorp funding and sponsorship, they would have a much easier time getting through the convoluted web of politics, making what might be an impossible task into a merely long-winded one.

Con: Crockercorp would have a say in the wording of any laws, amendments or rulings that related to Alternians.

Pro: Crockercorp was offering to set up special bursaries and scholarships to help Alternians through higher education, to fund schools for the lower grades, and to set up apprenticeships and opportunities within their business. Put together, it would massively reduce the growing specter of unemployment, poverty and disenfranchisement that was affecting so many of the displaced aliens.

Con: That would give Crockercorp massive influence over Alternian culture for years to come.

Pro: Crockercorp was offering to help locate and secure a suitable place to settle the matriorb, ensuring the survival of the Alternian species on Earth.

Con: Crockercorp would then have unparalleled access to the one guarantee that there would be future Alternians on Earth.

Pro: Her grandmother was an old hand in business and politics; she knew exactly what she was doing.

Con: Her grandmother was an old hand in business and politics; she knew exactly what she was doing.

Jade groaned and pushed off from the couch, stepping over Bec and starting to pace across the thick green carpet. If she was being honest, the problem wasn’t that she didn’t trust her grandmother. The old lady had spent just as much time with her Alternian guests as she had Jade, and from what Feferi said she was keen to form a strong and enduring bond between Alternian interests and the Crockercorp business. Even without Jade, she was willing to provide support and assistance, although not so much of it.

The problem was that every time she looked over at Grandpa, she could see how hard he was trying to hide his dismay, and even if she was mad at him for not telling her she was his great-niece she didn’t want to hurt him. For herself she didn’t mind so much; she was sixteen years old, after all, and her plan had always been to strike out on her own when she was eighteen. A couple of years living elsewhere, getting to know new relatives and visiting her old ones, wouldn’t make much difference. Except, it seemed, to the old man who had been her only real family for years and years, even before either of them knew they were related by blood.

With a sigh, Jade decided to go down to the kitchen and find a snack. Normally she would be worried about running into her grandmother down there, but she was out on company business with Grandpa today. Since Feferi and Eridan had vanished to the beach declaring intentions to explore the local sea bed she was on her own apart from Greene.

She kept her ears open for the butler as she tiptoed down the stairs, Bec on her heels, not wanting another painstakingly polite reprimand on how polite young ladies wear house-slippers. She heard nothing but the usual sounds of a house at rest until she made it down to the corridor alongside the second kitchen, the smaller one with the terracotta floor tiles, and heard pans clanging and someone humming. Jade was about to creep away again, thinking that her grandmother had somehow made it home without her noticing, when she heard an unfamiliar woman’s voice muttering; “Oh, bother it all. Not more rearrangements!”

Jade walked up to the kitchen door and pushed it open, the door swinging on hinges that whispered silken silence. There was a stranger in the kitchen, reaching up on tip-toes to get a new bag of flour from one of the high cupboards. She was about the same height as Jade, but even from behind it was obvious that she was more padded and less muscular. A red band was just visible in her bob of black hair, holding it back out of her face, and as she grabbed the flour and turned on the spot Jade stared because that face was so familiar. The stranger was older than her and John, but not by too much, and even accounting for the extra roundness in her face she looked like them both- from her neat, oval-framed glasses to the prominent buck-teeth that just showed in the surprised “O” of her mouth.

“Hi,” said Jade, smiling at the stranger who was performing her own scrutiny. “I’m Jade. Jade Harley?”

“Oh!” Something seemed to click in the young woman’s head, and she beamed. Setting down the bag of flour, she stepped around the kitchen island and walked over, hand extended. “Jane Crocker. I had no idea Grandmother had invited you up this week, or I would have come to visit sooner!” Bec trotted over to sniff her dangling hand and she patted him, leaving a floury mark on his head. “Hello there, boy. Aren't you a fine fellow?”

Encouraged by Bec's approval, Jade took the woman's somewhat battery hand and shook it. Up close, she could see that the stranger, Jane, had eyes that were if anything even more vibrant a blue than John’s. “It’s great to meet you,” she said. “But I’m so sorry- I don’t actually know who you are!”

Jane’s hand went up to her mouth. “Oh my golly gosh, you mean she didn’t tell you?” She shook her head. “Honestly, sometimes I think the old lady is going a mite gaga! I’m your cousin! My mother, Bridget, she was your mother’s twin sister.” She turned and started walking back to her mixing bowl, abandoned on the side. “Of course, I only found out myself after that terrible Ringmaster business, and Grandmother’s been so darned secretive about the whole mess!” She lifted up the bowl and a mixing spoon, paused, and smiled at Jade over the mix. “Do you want to know what I think?”

Slipping onto one of the stools alongside the kitchen island, Jade nodded, grinning back at her new and infectiously enthusiastic cousin. “Sure!”

Jane leaned across the table and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, it’s not like Grandmother to be so close-mouthed about family matters, so I started my own little investigation into the family history, and it looks as if there was a jolly nasty to-do in the family when your mother took up with that Becquerel fellow. A real black sheep sort of affair, you see.” Seeing Jade’s good mood falter, she leaned back and snorted. “Oh, don’t be put out by it. My side of the family is hardly any better; mother died while we were quite young, poor thing, and Grandmother has had her work quite cut out keeping me out of father’s custody. It’s probably what made her react so badly to your mother going off on a similar tack. And as for Jake- he’s my brother, we’re twins too, really does run in the family- well, he’s been off gallivanting around North Africa for _years_ just to keep clear of the old man!”

Jade blinked, her head spinning. “I have another cousin?”

Seeing Jade’s look of surprise, Jane laughed. It was an odd, hooting sort of sound that was surprisingly pleasant. “Yes, I should say you do!” Her laughter faded and she smiled at Jade. “I’m sorry, am I going rather fast for you?”

“A little bit, maybe,” said Jade, returning the smile. “But it’s okay! I spent so much of my life being an orphan that I actually kind of like finding out I have family all over the place.” She pulled a face. “Mostly, anyway. I could probably do without being related to _Him.”_

Bec let out a small growl and Jane nodded, giving the mixture in the bowl a heated stirring. “I can quite well empathize,” she said. “Although not to the same extent, thank goodness. Father Dear has at least stopped short of locking us in a basement and stabbing people in front of us.”

A shiver ran through Jade, the memory of something dark and chill briefly spoiling the cozy warmth of the kitchen. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “Tell me about you and Jake!”

Jane beamed. “Oh, I'm not that interesting,” she said. “I'm a bit of a shut-in, I'm afraid. Now my brother, he's quite the sport.” Her stirring slowed to a more peaceful folding of batter. “Always an adventurer, even when we were young. Ran away from home the first time when we were eight, I think it was. They brought him back before the end of the day, of course, but I swear that just made him more determined.”

Jade stifled a giggle. “He ran away a lot?”

“Absolutely,” said Jane, nodding to the rhythm of the circling spoon. “Used to drive me half-mad with worry, the silly sausage, but someone clearly taught him some decent survival skills at some point because he hasn’t died playing Tarzan yet.” She sighed. “Even when he was staying with me and Grandmother, he never used to like staying put, and ever since father won the custody battle- well, as far as I know he never formally left home, so much as he ran away and was never caught again!” Chuckling, she wandered across the kitchen to grab a jar of dried fruit. Bec got up from his position at the foot of Jade's stool to follow Jane, panting hopefully.

“He sounds fun!” said Jade, watching as Jane threw in the fruit, measuring handfuls by eye. “I bet he’d get on well with Grandpa.”

“Oho?” Jane looked up from her bowl, eyebrows raised. “Come on, then, tell me about yourself. All I know about my baby cousins is that they were the youngsters the news wouldn’t name, and that I’ve seen you in the back of the pictures from those Alternian press conferences. I must admit you are making me frightfully curious!”

Jade shrugged. “Not that much to tell. I live with Grandpa- actually he’s my Great-Uncle, which I guess makes him yours too? But I didn’t know that until really recently. He adopted me when I was little and I’ve spent most of my life either traveling around the world on business with him, or at home on the island.”

“Sounds exciting,” said Jane, a little wistfully. “I wasn’t even allowed to leave the house when I was your age- safety thing, you know, because of Father. Of course I travel a little more now, doing bits of work for the company, but I’m afraid I’ve become quite the homebody from it all.” She raised one index finger off the spoon and waved it in a carry on gesture. “So tell me more about this island of yours.”

“Oh, it’s really awesome!” said Jade, grinning at the thought of sharing her love of her childhood home with a whole new person. “It’s a volcanic island, and even though the volcano is extinct there’s a really cool crater to explore, and a lake with an ancient Polynesian temple in the middle of it. I remember there was an archaeological expedition there when I was still little.”

“Golly, you sound like a veritable Lara Croft!”

“Sometimes,” Jade agreed. “But usually I feel like being more of a Marie Curie or maybe a Rosalind Franklin. Grandpa paid for a whole lab and greenhouse that he doesn’t use, just for me, and I can never decide whether I like nuclear physics or genetics more!”

“Ah, the eternal conundrum,” said Jane, nodding sagely. “Personally I say dang it all and take up a career in comedy. Or baking.” She tapped the side of her bowl and winked. Jade giggled.

“Who in the name a the benighted ancestor a all dirtsuckin’ wagabonds is that?”

There was a clatter as Jane dropped her mixing spoon. The bowl rattled against the counter as she jumped back. Jade rolled her eyes and turned around to see two seadwellers, both sporting towel robes and dripping hair, standing in the doorway.

“Ask nicely, asshole,” she said.

Behind her, Jane gasped, and Bec trotted over to greet his favorite seadweller. Feferi giggled as the large dog licked salt residue from the webs between her fingers. “Whale, it’s _obvious,_ isn’t it? You can sea the similarities- you two simply mussel have had the same Ancestor!” She walked up and held out a hand across the counter. “Feferi Peixes,” she said. “Heiress of the Alternians. But I’m shore you can call me Feferi!”

Jane leaned over to take the hand and shake it. Jade could see that her cousin had gone slightly pink, and her eyes kept flicking to the fins that were tucked neatly against Feferi’s jawbone. “My goodness, this is such an honor!” she said breathlessly. “I mean, I certainly wasn’t expecting to meet royalty today! I’m Jane Crocker, Jade’s cousin.”

“Our mothers were sisters,” Jade explained, seeing Feferi’s face start to freeze into a polite smile. “It’s okay, though, you don’t need to remember that much detail.”

“Why would you ewen care about it?” asked Eridan, nudging Bec aside in order to drop onto the stool next to Jade. He leaned forward, examining the mixing bowl. “Sounds like more a that unnecessary and antediluwian genetic complication that you ass-backwards mammals are into. What’s this?”

“Fingers _out!”_ Jane snapped, grabbing her spoon and rapping Eridan’s outstretched hand before it could make contact with the cake mix. Both of them froze, staring at each other in open-mouthed shock, then Eridan twitched and Jane’s face tightened. “Don’t even think it, mister!” she said, brandishing the spoon at him. “Nobody gets into this cake mix until I’m done with it, and even then only if they behave themselves properly!”

Both Jade and Feferi stifled giggles as Eridan let out a small glub and stared, bug-eyed, into Jane’s fierce scowl. Another waggle of the spoon and he shuffled back, expression morphing into a dark glare that he turned on all three of them before starting to pick at a loose fiber on his robe. Bec whuffed and settled down by Jade’s feet again, flicking one ear at the dumb human shenanigans.

Feferi glubbed once and Jade let a last little snicker escape before turning to her adoptive sister. “So, did you two have a fun swim?” she asked.

“Shore did!” said Feferi, beaming. “The sea here is reely clean- it’s almost like bream back on Alternia.”

“Would a been better if we could a gone deeper,” said Eridan, smoothing the sleeve of his towel robe.

“What do you mean?” asked Jade.

Feferi rolled her eyes. “Oh, the security guards by the beach were terribubbly insistent that we stay within two hundred yards of the shore.” She puffed air out, flapping her lips in a wet raspberry noise. “I did try to shell them that we could hardly _drown,_ but they kelped going on about the currents and the rocks and in the end it just seemed betta not to upset anemone.”

“It’s a good thing you did listen,” said Jane, moving her bowl across the kitchen and emptying it into a waiting cake tin. “My brother and I used to swim on that beach, and the one time he got caught in the undercurrents he ended up needing to visit the hospital. One broken arm, three cracked ribs, and a lacerated leg, if I recall. Not a pretty sight, I can tell you that!”

“Yeah, but two hundred yards is hardly ewen deep enough to paddle in,” Eridan said, glaring at the countertop as if he would prefer to put a fist through it. “I mean, we’re seadwellers. It ain’t like we’re made outta paper and glass like you humans are, and nature in all its infinite glory clearly intended for us to _dwell_ in the fuckin’ _sea.”_

“You going to start doing that any time soon, then?” asked Jade, and ducked back to dodge the half-hearted claw swipe that he aimed at her arm. Bec looked up, saw that it was only Eridan, and lowered his head again.

“Whale, I think it’s betta that we were safe than sorry!” said Feferi. “And it reely was a nice swim.” She scratched at her head, fingers tangling in hanks of damp hair. “We only came back up to the house because Mrs Crocker’s car drove past us.”

Jane looked up from where she was putting the cake tin in the oven. “Grandmother’s home?”

“Shore!” said Feferi. Eridan huffed, and Jane cast a concerned glance over at a bundle of ingredients on the side.

“Oh, but I was going to make the icing while it was baking…” She chewed her lower lip, uncertain.

“It’s okay,” said Jade, getting to her feet. Next to her, Bec stood up and watched her expectantly. “I wanted to talk to her anyway; I’ll let her know you’re here, and you can come say hi when you’re done with the cake.”

Jane nodded, breaking into a smile. “Yes, that’s a fine plan,” she said. “And I’m sure this pair will be happy to keep me company.”

“Why would I want to do that?” asked Eridan, ignoring Feferi nodding cheerily beside him.

Jane smirked and dumped the now-emptied bowl in front of him. “Because I have cake mix,” she said. Jade covered her mouth to suppress giggles as Eridan’s face showed the internal war between his pride and his desire to try the leftover batter. From the sound of claws on ceramic as she and Bec left the kitchen, batter won out.

She was planning to go straight to meet her grandmother, but by the time she had managed to find her way through the maze of corridors to the garage there was nobody around. She found her grandmother’s car, easily picked out as an old black Rolls-Royce with red leather upholstery, and crouched down beside Bec. He huffed at her as she ruffled the fur around his ears.

“Find Grandma Crocker, boy,” she said, giving him an encouraging grin. “Go on, find!”

Bec huffed again, then started sniffing at the ground. Jade stood up and brushed off her knees, feeling very proud of how smart her dog was; he was getting a little older now, but you’d never know it. Sometimes she thought he was the smartest person she knew!

Looking up at her, Bec barked, a deep and sonorous sound that immediately drew her attention. Seeing that she was looking at him, the dog started to trot away, occasionally lowering his head to sniff at the ground. Jade followed as he led her back into the house, up a small set of back stairs and around into a wide hallway carpeted in red. With another bark he darted off through a door painted white and gold, and as Jade approached she could hear her grandmother chuckling.

“Now, where did you come from, then?” she was saying. Bec’s tail thumped against carpet, and Jade grinned when she came to the door and saw the old lady, dressed in a smart white business suit, making a fuss of the dog. “Ah, there’s my granddaughter,” Mrs Crocker said, straightening with a smile. “I thought you wouldn’t be far behind him!”

“He likes you today,” said Jade, rushing to catch Bec as he tried to follow her grandmother across the room.

The old lady chuckled again. “Oh, I think he just smells something delicious on my hands,” she said, holding one out to Bec. He lapped at it, and Jade laughed. Crouching, she ruffled his thick head fur.

“Good dog,” she told him. “Good boy.” She glanced up at her grandmother. “He tracked you from the garage for me,” she said.

Mrs Crocker nodded, and offered her a hand to help her stand up. “Still having trouble finding your way around?”

Jade nodded as she was hauled to her feet by a surprisingly strong grip. “I know it’s silly to complain about this place being big when I live on an island, but it really is!”

Her grandmother laughed. “Oh, it’s not silly at all, my dear. This place had me turned about for years when I first came to live here!”

Jade grinned. “What about Jane and Jake? Did they get lost too?”

For a moment her grandmother stared at her blankly, then her warm smile returned. “Oh, yes, all the time. Might I ask…?”

“Jane’s downstairs in the terracotta kitchen,” said Jade. “We were talking before you came home. She’s really nice!”

Mrs Crocker nodded, walking over to a seat and settling down in it. Bec followed her over and nosed at her hand; she held it out for him to fuss at. “Yes, I’m very proud of Jane. It’s a shame I couldn’t have her brother with me too, but that young lady is a credit to me and my family.”

“But that’s what I don’t get,” said Jade, walking over after her grandmother. “If you have Jane, why do you want me? And if you want me, why not John?”

Mrs Crocker sighed and patted the seat next to hers. “Sit down, dear,” she said, suddenly looking much older and more tired. Jade settled into the chair- it was much comfier than the couch from earlier- and the old lady gave her a long, searching look before sighing and settling back.

“You must understand that family is very important to me,” she said, absently scratching between Bec’s ears. “I and my late husband, God rest him, thought the world of our girls. We would have done anything for their happiness. But fate and the world had other plans, and to my great and lasting sorrow, I have lost most of the people I cared for.”

“I’m sorry,” said Jade. Her grandmother sighed and turned to face her, tears glinting in the corners of her eyes and making them glimmer all the more blue. A wrinkled hand reached out and stroked her hair, perfectly manicured nails running through the tangles.

“It’s not your fault, darling, and it all happened a long time ago,” said Mrs Crocker. “But I do often wish that things could be different, and when I learned that Hass had adopted you I saw an opportunity. Your brother, John, he has a family of his own and although I do dearly wish to get to know him I would not dream of taking him away from those he loves. But you are already a part of my family; if you were to come and live with me, then not only do I gain quality time with my youngest granddaughter, through you I get to rebuild my relationship with my brother.” She shook her head; pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, she dabbed at her eyes. “Hass and I fell out many years ago, when I was young and headstrong and he even more so. I want him to know Jane and Jake just as badly as I want to know you and John, and I want to spend my twilight years mending the rift between us that should never have come to be.”

Jade considered this, and felt twin pangs of guilt; one for the saddened look on her Grandpa’s face, and one for the raw hope in the eyes of the otherwise stern old lady who was, after all, her Grandmother.

“I have to think about it,” she said firmly, and felt awful when her grandmother looked away. “I’m sorry.”

“No, dear, I quite understand.” Her grandmother patted Bec briskly on the head and stood. “I should go down and see Jane; I expect she’s all aflutter by now.”

Jade sighed and got up to follow her, readying herself to grab Bec’s collar- maybe there really was something left on her grandmother’s hands, he was certainly keen on sticking his nose against them! “It’s not a no,” she said. “And really, even if I decide to stay with Grandpa, I’ll want to come and visit you loads and I think Feferi and- okay, well maybe not Eridan, but Feferi would love to see you too.”

Her grandmother paused in the door and turned back. “Jade,” she said, then paused to clear her throat before continuing; “My dear, if I were to make the offer of support and funding to Feferi, no strings attached, no requirement for you to live with me, would that make things easier?”

Jade broke into a wide grin. “You’d do that?”

Mrs Crocker smiled. “Well, Feferi seems like a perfectly lovely girl, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint either of you. After all, she is my great-niece now, isn’t she?”

A squeal erupted from Jade as she charged across the room and grabbed her grandmother into a hug. “Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!”

For a moment her grandmother was stiff, then an arm wrapped around her and a slightly dog-licked hand patted her hair. “Thank you, my dear, for at least considering granting an old lady’s dearest wish.” She stepped back, pushing Jade away. “Now, shall we go and see how your cousin is getting on?”

Jade nodded, and together with Bec she followed Betty Crocker back down to the kitchen where their family was waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's where Jane and Jake have been all this time! :) In this AU they're about ten years older than the viewpoint characters, the same age as Dirk/Bro.
> 
> Music for Jade is easy-peasy to come up with: given her canon instrument is the Eclectic Bass, we're looking at heavy rock or metal with a good bassline. Examples (found with the help of the internet because while I love rock I am bad at picking out individual instruments) include [Rime of the Ancient Mariner](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D0Ayu_Y1DKE) by Iron Maiden, [Call of Ktulu](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1RTgznup5c) by Metallica, or, for people who like songs to be less than around ten minutes long, [Pictures of Home](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4UjWtLyYBY) by Deep Purple.


	12. ==> Be The Man With The Plan

### CHAPTER ELEVEN ==> Be The Man With The Plan

Tavros Nitram examined his hand carefully; without lowering the cards, he peeked around them to see what his opponent had on the table. Noticing his glance she grinned at him, the expression tugging at the scar tissue on her left cheek. Tavros quickly withdrew behind his cards again, and before he could second-guess himself laid one down. From the look of horror spreading across his opponent’s face, he’d guessed right.

“I believe the expression, is to read them, and weep,” he said, letting himself smirk a little. His opponent stuck her tongue out at him and, grabbing one of the small glass beads from the table, flicked it at his head. Tavros ducked and it bounced off his horn, landing with a plop in his milkshake.

“Oopf,” said his opponent, with no trace of guilt whatsoever. Tavros stared at her for a moment, his brown-streaked eyes meeting her maroon-flecked ones, and then both of them broke into giggles.

“Fhit, you were not kidding about being awefome at thif!” The girl’s smile revealed missing fangs on the same side of her jaw as the burn-scar. “Did you play pro before or fomething?”

Tavros nodded, gathering up his pokemon cards and tucking them safely into a metal lunchbox. “Yeah,” he said, straightening up the decks. “I was, um, kind of a champion, back on the ship.”

The girl frowned, then clicked her fingers. “Oh, yeah! I think I heard about you. I never watched the tournamentf, though- too rifky, that crowd, you know?” She sighed, gathering in her own cards. “It’f not the fame as Fidufpawn, if it?”

Tavros shook his head, remembering the collection of monsters he’d been so fond of back on Alternia. He’d had doubts, once, about leaving them with a neighbor before boarding the ship, but it was hard to regret when none of the Fiduspawn that were brought along survived the whole trip. He still missed them, though.

“It’s, um, good to have someone, to play with,” he said, with another smile at the girl. “Thanks, Malsha.”

Malsha shrugged and ducked her head, hair swinging forwards over the rising blush on her face. “That’f fine,” she said, twisting a few strands of her hair around one claw. “Thankf for making me feel fo welcome here. I waf fcared there wouldn’t be anyone I liked in thif fchool!” She glanced around the blank rectangle of concrete that constituted a recess area, taking in the groups of students hanging out against the walls, the wire-link fence, and the other picnic tables.

“No, uh, problem,” said Tavros, wheeling his chair away. The tables were the only good place to play Pokemon out here, but he always had to sit at the short ends and playing at right angles threw a lot of people off. “It’s been nice, for me also, um, to have another friend.” He glanced over his shoulder to where Terezi was rampaging across the concrete, cane waving in the air as she chased some seventh graders in a game he was sure she had instigated.

Malsha followed his look and giggled again. “Yeah, your friendf are pretty fcary, huh?”

“Um, not so much as-“ Tavros broke off when his pocket started to play a jaunty tune. “Oh, excuse me, um, I have to get this.” He pulled his cellphone out and answered it, pressing the strange little machine to his ear. He spent more time using it like a computer than actually talking on it; the fact that it was technologically the descendant of a reciprocal discourse device felt odd, when he was reminded of it.

“Hello?”

“Tavros!” Emily’s voice sounded different on the cell, although some of that was probably panic. “You have to help Buck! I think he's really in trouble!”

Tavros frowned, although his little sister wouldn’t be able to see it or tell at all. _Trouble_ could mean plenty of things, but most of those wouldn’t end in a phone call. “Uh, what do you, mean?”

“He just called me,” said Emily, her breath panting sharply with sobs. “And he sounded really scared and he said that he was sorry and he loved me and then I heard something and he hung up and I think it was a gun!”

Tavros swallowed. That was definitely Trouble, of the kind that he was trying to avoid since being grounded for his involvement in Aradia's rescue. The sensible thing to do would be to stay at school and call George and not get caught up in it, but hearing Emily sniffling on the other end of the line made that idea sink like a stone in sopor.

“Okay,” said Tavros, nibbling on the inside of his lip in thought. “Um, you need to call Dad, and tell him about this.”

“But he'll be angry with Buck!” Emily said, her voice wavering.

“Buck is, already in trouble,” said Tavros. “So, he needs Dad, to help him, uh, even if he gets shouted at after.” At least if he got chewed out he would be alive. “And me, and Terezi, will also be seeing what we can do, to help.”

His human sister sniffed. “Promise?”

“Promise,” said Tavros. “Just, call Dad, okay?”

“Okay,” said Emily, and the line went dead. Rather than fighting to get the cellphone back in his pocket, Tavros dropped it onto his lap and wheeled back from the table.

“Problems at home?” asked Malsha, watching him from behind her hair. Tavros nodded.

“Thanks, uh, for the game,” he said. Malsha waved as he rolled off across the recess area, and he gave her a fleeting smile before turning his attention to the horde of seventh grade kids that were screaming past him.

“Um, hey, I need to talk to- Terezi, could you, um, over here...”

His friend paused in her chase when she sensed him wave, and with one last threatening shake of her cane at the younger kids she sauntered over. “Tavros!” she said, beaming at him. “I thought I was to be all alone this lunch break. To what do I owe the enviable pleasure of your company?”

“Buck’s in, um, trouble,” said Tavros. He glanced around to make sure no-one was listening, then lowered his voice and switched to Alternian. “He, um, called Emily, and said some things, which were possibly a goodbye. And she says, she heard a gun, uh, fire.”

Terezi’s face straightened into a more serious expression. “Does George know?”

“I, uh, told her, to call him,” said Tavros. “But, I promised that we would do, something, also?”

Terezi tilted her head, eyebrow raising. “You care that much about Buck?”

“I care, that much about, Emily,” Tavros replied. His claw-tips drummed on the arm of his wheelchair. “He might be, um, a massive jerk, and hate me in a platonic and also not very human family way, but if something happened, to him, that is, then Emily would be, uh, sad.”

Terezi hummed, seeming to ponder his words. “So, we save him from the drones, then drop him in the slurry?” she said with a growing grin.

“That, does seem, appropriate,” Tavros agreed. “I’ll call him, and try to find out, where he is.”

“No need,” said Terezi. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pin button; Tavros caught a flash of red and blue before she turned it away from him. “He always smells of the same places,” she said, licking the button. “Nepeta and I play games sometimes, working out where the smells belong, and since I don’t think Buck would get in trouble of that nature at the mall that leaves either a public park, or the docks.”

“Docks?” Tavros asked, trying to work out what his human brother could possibly be doing there.

Ignoring his confusion, Terezi grinned and tucked the button away again. “That’s what I thought, too.” She strode past him across the recess area, leaving Tavros to frantically spin the wheels of his chair in an attempt to catch up. “There’s no way we’ll make it back before the end of final period. Are you prepared for the consequences?”

“Yes,” said Tavros, and he received a solemn nod as Terezi approved his choice. The two of them made their way over to the gate that marked the exit of the school grounds, halfway between the Junior High and Senior High buildings. Terezi marched through them without hesitation. Despite her confidence, Tavros let his mind flicker between the birds and the rodents around them, checking to be sure they weren’t seen.

“I, think someone, just went to fetch a teacher,” he said, watching through the eyes of a mouse as a girl ran towards the school away from where they stood.

“Then we’d better move fast,” said Terezi, turning off along the sidewalk towards the nearest bus stop. Tavros pushed after her, glad that he’d chosen to leave his bulkier electric wheelchair at home today. It had been in anticipation of chasing down leads after school, but it was just as useful now.

There was a bus coming in to the stop when they arrived there, and Terezi let out a whoop of joy as she ran up to it. The bus driver took the fare then got out to help lower the ramp that would let Tavros get on the bus. Tavros spent the time looking over his shoulder, certain that an angry teacher would come chasing them down any minute. None appeared and soon they were pulling off, leaving the school behind them and giving Tavros nothing else to think about beyond his human family and what sort of danger Buck might be in.

His cellphone rang about halfway through the bus ride, and if he had been able to jump out of his seat in surprise it was likely he would have done. Instead he fished the cell out from his lap and winced when he saw who was calling.

“Um, Emily, has called George,” he told Terezi.

His friend shrugged. “The decision is yours,” she said, leaning back in her seat and staring sightlessly out of the bus window. “Either way you know he'll worry about you.”

Tavros groaned and pressed the answer button.

“Where are you?” demanded his human father’s voice, before he had even got the speaker to his ear.

“Um, what?” asked Tavros, stalling as he looked imploringly at Terezi. She must have smelled the expression, because she stuck her tongue out at him.

“I just got a call from Emily telling me that Buck is in some sort of trouble and that you promised to look into it,” said his father. Tavros nearly bit through his lower lip. “And right after that, I got a call from your principal telling me that you left the school grounds. Now, I am _not_ dealing with two of my children in danger, so where. Are. You.”

Tavros swallowed. “Um, about all that, Dad…” his voice trailed off as he thought about what Emily had said. A gunshot. He might not like Buck, but deep down he was certain that if the worst had happened, it was better if he saw it for himself before telling anyone. George was a policeman, but somehow Tavros didn't think his professional experience would apply well to his son.

“I can't, say yet,” he said, amazed by how steady his own voice was while part of him kept shrieking _don’t, don’t, you have to fit in or they’ll give you away._ “Because, um, I promised. So we need to find him. Sorry.”

The voice on the other end of the line dropped to a low hiss. “Young man, you will turn around and go back to school _right now.”_

“N-no,” said Tavros, clinging to the word like a drowning man to driftwood. It didn’t explain anything or convince anyone or even really make him feel confident at all, but he’d only seen George get really, properly angry once before and he was good with anything that might stop him from going under in that storm.

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?”

“Y-yes.”

“How dare you! We have had this discussion and you know, you know that what you are doing is wrong! Have you even thought about your mother?”

“I-I,” Tavros stammered, and it was a mistake because now he was thinking about Susan and the way she had been after the “rescue Aradia” mess. Terrified for him and terrified of him, all at the same time, and it was _horrible_ and _why was he doing this…?_

Someone snatched the cellphone out of his shaking hands. “Hello, George,” said Terezi, holding it up to her ear. “Sorry, but Tavros can’t come to the phone right now.” There was a pause; Tavros could hear some angry shouting from the other end, but he couldn’t make out the words. “Really, Detective, I’m shocked that you could even suggest such a thing to an innocent, blind- hi, Matt!” Another pause, this one quieter. “I know. Don’t you trust me?” The answer to that one had her laughing, head thrown back and teeth showing. “Very sensible,” she said. “I knew I liked you best… yes. We will.”

She hung up and tossed the cellphone back onto Tavros’ lap. “Is that chocolate caramel syrup I smell you leaking?”

Tavros raised a hand to scrub at his tears. “Yes,” he said, with a glare that would have challenged her to say any more about it if she could see his expression. Since she couldn’t- although the tone in his voice was pretty clear too- Terezi leaned over and patted his arm.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, Chocolate Drop,” she said. “You know George is only mad because he’s scared for you and Buck, right?”

Tavros nodded. “Yes. I’m not, stupid.” He shuddered. “He’s still, um, really scary. And Matt wasn’t mad with you.”

Terezi snickered. “Not on the phone, maybe, but I will bet you ten American dollars that right now he’s beating his head against the steering wheel and screaming.”

“But, why are they being, so different?” Tavros tilted his head, trying to puzzle it out, and wiped up another brown tear with his wrist before it could fall. “Because George, is my Dad, and Matt is, not yours?”

There was a brief silence between them. “Actually, Matt and Cathy are formally dating now,” said Terezi. “And even before that- Matt’s got a daughter, did you know? Humans who have been parents already fall into a pattern dealing with those they see as their children.” She shook her head. “They’re acting differently because they are different, and because we're different to one another.”

Tavros looked down at his useless legs, feeling something old and ugly and bitter rise up in him. “Because, I can’t walk? Or run?”

“Because to them I’m a killer, and you’re not.”

Tavros’ head snapped back up to look at her; Terezi met it well, for someone who didn’t know where he was looking. “But, that’s not…”

“It matters here,” said Terezi. Her fingers started winding around one another. “Not as much as it could, and there are other reasons, but in the end that’s it. To them, you’re a child, and I’m not- or not always.”

She sounded so glum about it that Tavros reached over with his free hand and rested it over hers. “Do you think, we would have been, uh, different, if maybe, we had been born, human?”

Terezi frowned, the claws of her free hand digging into the fabric of her seat. “I think everyone has regrets,” she said, then broke into a broad, toothy smile. “And I think it would have been deeply regrettable if I had never existed to administer Justice and Truth to the miscreants of this universe!”

Trying to picture a human Terezi drubbing a collection of villains, both human and troll, Tavros laughed. “I guess, that is a point. It would be, uh, tragic, in ways that are both profound and, painful to the blood-pusher, if I were not the supreme grandmaster of Fiduspawn, and also beats that are so ill, they are terminal.”

Terezi nodded. “Exactly!” She paused and sniffed at the air. “Aha! Our stop.”

It took some more cautious negotiation to get Tavros back onto the sidewalk, and by the time the bus was driving away he was picking up what Terezi could smell through half a dozen different noses; lightly skimming the surface senses of the nearest animals, he could smell more than just the salt, fish and oil that hung thick in the air. There was metal too, cold and tangy, and wood that had to be more seawater by weight. Eyes above from a flock of hungry gulls showed him the huge vessels docked at the piers, the massed stacks of storage containers large enough to live in, and the grubby, blocky warehouses that helped mark the border between the city and the ocean.

Nobody built port cities on Alternia. Aradia had once told him that there were a few ruined ones scattered about here and there, but generally the animosity between land-dwellers and seadwellers made the idea about as safe as building on the slopes of an active volcano. Although, now he thought of it, humans did that too, didn’t they? And LA was almost directly on top of the San Andreas fault-line.

Tavros thought that for a species so eager to build things, humans weren't very good at choosing places to put them.

“This way,” said Terezi, leading Tavros downhill towards the warehouses. He gripped at the rims of his wheels to stop them from sending him hurtling down into the ocean. Feferi talked wistfully about swimming, but Tavros had no strong urge to try it- the complete opposite, in fact. He was expecting to see humans at work all around them, but as they drew closer he saw that the area around the warehouses was deserted. Quickly, he checked again through the eyes of a gull, and what she saw confirmed that there were some humans around the ships and the shipping containers.

“Why is it, so empty?” he whispered, not wanting to raise his voice over the hush. Terezi paused in her detailed sniffing of a breeze-block wall and shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she replied, in the same low voice. “But it’s been this way for a couple of months now. It’s why Buck’s friends thought it would make a good place to hang out; nobody is here to watch them.”

Tavros stared at her as she stuck her tongue out and thoughtfully licked a rusted metal door. “Um, how long, have you been spying on my brother?”

Tongue still extended, Terezi shifted her head so he could see a corner of her red shades. “For as long as he’s been interesting.” She stepped back from the door and nodded. “This way.”

More gulls joined the overhead watchers as they walked past silent warehouses, some of them with gaping doorways that showed empty space inside. Chills ran up Tavros’ back, anticipation of a kind he recalled from FLARPing. Something here was wrong, even if they hadn’t seen it yet.

Terezi abruptly stopped dead, and before Tavros could ask her what was wrong she started walking again, this time headed straight for one of the warehouses. It was a shabby one, flaking paint a faded blue that contrasted with the brilliant red signage of its neighbor. The main door was open, but it wasn’t until they were close enough to see some of the crates inside that Tavros smelled it.

Gunpowder and blood.

He couldn’t cover his nose while pushing his wheelchair, and after a minute or two he adjusted to the point that he didn’t really need to any more. By that time he was wheeling into the building, passing out of the bright sunlight and blinking as his eyes adjusted to show him scattered cardboard and fragments of wood. Dim sunlight streamed in from filthy windows set into the roof; it was as bright as an Alternian Night, and easy enough to see the places where light sparkled off dark pools.

“Wait.” Terezi’s arm stopped Tavros from rolling into a bloody puddle, the red too dark and purple at the edges to be human. He breathed a small sigh of relief. Even he knew the human police could find you if you left tracks, but he’d forgotten in the moment. Terezi hadn’t, and he followed her advice and stayed put as she crouched down next to the body in front of them.

“He’s, a troll,” said Tavros. Terezi nodded, her head swaying as she sniffed around the corpse.

“Smells like… seven sweeps, maroon blood, not homeless but not living with humans, either. He was in a gang, must have been.” She straightened, stood, and sniffed the air again. “I can smell human and troll blood, from at least a dozen people _including_ someone who tastes like a delectable key-lime pie, but this is the only body.” Her head turned and Tavros followed it, seeing a glint of metal lying between two crates.

“Don’t, touch it,” he warned, as Terezi walked over to crouch by the murder weapon.

Her head twisted round to stare at him. “Detective Nitram, are you suggesting that a Legislacerator would allow contamination of the crime scene before the guilty party was securely in custody?”

Tavros opened and closed his mouth before managing: “No?”

“Good.” Terezi stood and turned back towards the exit. “Our culprit fled this way. I can pursue him alone, if you want to return to the station and deal with the Captain. Our rampage through the streets of this city has been disgraceful and in flagrant breach of established rules; someone should definitely be working damage control on that.”

“Probably,” Tavros said. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “But, I won’t.”

“Detective Nitram-“

“I’m not, stupid.”

He didn’t shout, but his voice was firm, and even if it was only from surprise Terezi shut up. Not giving her time to recover, Tavros continued. “You’re, um, trying to get rid of me, and that means that, you think Buck did this. Which, if you think it, is also a thing I think, as well. And actually, I maybe already thought it, a bit. So I’m coming too, because, even if I’m not human, and he’s a jerk, I’m in human family with him. That means I have to, um, protect him. If I can.”

There was silence, broken by the sound of distant gulls and ship horns. Tavros had let all of his animal watchers go, trusting in his own senses for a while, and now he felt too alone and vulnerable.

“I’m kind of in human family with you, too, you know,” said Terezi.

“That’s not even, a quadrant,” said Tavros. “I just made it up. Right now.”

“I know, Detective Caramel Crunch.” Terezi sighed and started out for the exit. “Come on then, if you’re coming.”

Tavros followed her out of the warehouse and past the obnoxiously red building next door towards the nearby wharf. A light touch on the birds overhead showed him nothing new, but when they reached the place where wood met land she turned and ducked into a narrow crack between two warehouses, too thin to even be called an alley. With one last sniff, she crouched down beside a stack of boxes and grinned.

“Hi there, Bad Boy,” she said in a sing-song.

The sudden gasp of breath was enough for Tavros to know, but he still managed to force his chair far enough around to see Buck huddled down between the crates and the wall of the warehouse next to him. His clothes were stained with dust and muck and his face was shiny with tears. He looked between the two of them, mouth hanging slightly open and eyes wide.

“How-“ he started, then he closed his eyes and dropped his head onto his knees with a groan. “You smelled me,” he said, voice muffled by his pants.

“Yeah,” said Terezi, sitting down so her back was against the wall and her legs were blocking Buck in. Not that he could have gotten out easily with Tavros taking up the width of the space. “The question now is, what do you want to do about it?”

Buck looked up again, startled. “Do? What the fuck do you expect me to do?” he said, new tears welling up. “I’m not- I don’t- it wasn’t- it was an accident. It shouldn’t have happened, it’s not my fault.” His fingers picked at the cuffs of his jacket as his gaze flickered between them. “It doesn’t have to have happened, right?”

“You, had a gun,” Tavros said, sharper than he needed to but not as harshly as he felt. He’d never seen Buck looking so young, and it was jarring to remember that his adoptive brother was the same age as him. “How is, having a gun, not your fault?”

Buck shook his head. “No, see, it was his gun, and he was going to shoot me, and _I didn’t mean to.”_ He looked back at Terezi. “Please, you gotta believe me!”

“I do,” said Terezi. Her head turned and she gave a brief nod to Tavros. He didn’t even have to ask after all the cop shows she’d made him sit through. It wasn’t the first time they’d played good cop, bad cop. It _was_ the first time Tavros had been bad cop, but he knew enough about cards to play what he was dealt.

“You still, killed someone,” he said. Buck shivered at the word “killed” and was shaking his head before Tavros had even finished.

“But it was an accident! I didn’t mean it! I’m sorry!”

Tavros didn’t even have to pretend to snarl at him. “You’re not, sorry, you just don’t want to, be caught.”

Buck shook his head again. “No, that’s not- I want to take it back!” He muffled a sob, burying his face in his sleeve, and Terezi leaned forward.

“I know,” she said softly, reaching out a hand and resting it on Buck’s shoulder. “You didn’t plan to kill someone. You didn’t want to kill someone. You’d probably be dead or badly hurt yourself if you hadn’t. But you still did it.”

Wordlessly, Buck nodded, and Terezi twisted her head a little more towards him. “The real question, Bad Boy Buck, is what you’re going to do about it now.” She pointed to herself, and then to Tavros. “We can help you hide this. Get you away from here, lie to your father, remove the evidence.”

Buck’s head shot up and he gaped at her. “You’d help-?”

“Wouldn’t be, the first death we’ve, um, covered up,” said Tavros. “You said yourself, lots of times. Trolls, are dangerous.” He sneered, which felt- pretty good, actually. It was satisfying to have the upper hand on Buck for once. “Although, in being dangerous, most of us actually did try and leave that, uh, back on the ship and, in the past.”

“Which is why we’d prefer it if you took the other option,” said Terezi. “Call your father. Be honest. This isn’t Alternia; no legislacerators or interrorgationists to rip a confession out of you, no Noble Tyranny to cull you and eat your corpse. You weren't in the commission of a crime so it's self defense; you've got no criminal record, a policeman for a father and access to a decent lawyer. It's a good case.”

“And, you’ll win it,” Tavros said. Buck’s head snapped around to look at him, and Tavros felt the ache of every insult, every snub, every human who had ever looked down on him dribbling into his words. “Not, because you’re right, or because, um, you deserve to. But, because you shot a troll. And nobody cares, about that, except to think that trolls are violent. And, if there was a fight, and you’re a human, and he’s not, then it was his fault, not yours. Because it always is.” He glowered. “Lucky you.”

Buck looked back at Terezi. “But- I don’t want- I didn’t mean…”

“You didn’t think,” said Terezi, and her voice was like steel and ice, it was cutting and sharp, and her grin was spreading. “Do you want us to go away, Buck? Do you want us to be where you can’t ever see us again, where we’re not taking whatever you think we're taking from you, where you never have to think about us and where we can’t ever be near _decent people?_ Because if so, then you’re going to have to cull us. Kill us.” She grabbed his hand and, forcing two fingers into a gun, pointed it at her own head then Tavros’. “Bang. Bang. That’s how we go away. _There isn’t another option.”_

Snatching his hand back, Buck tried to crawl deeper into the crevice between the crate and the wall. “You’re insane!”

“We, all are, probably,” said Tavros. “But she’s, um, right. If you don’t want someone, around at all, ever, then that’s the only way.” He leaned forward over his useless, limp legs. “We all knew, from when we were hatched, that if we weren’t wanted, we were dead. Or, if we could manage it, we could kill _first._ Except here, your people, when you don’t want someone, you pretend that means, they can just go away somewhere.”

“Nowhere left to go, Buck,” said Terezi. “Not for us, and not for you. You can hide what you did and try to escape justice, or admit it and take your lawful punishment, but either way?” She leaned towards him. “It happened. And you put yourself where it could happen, where it was going to happen, when you could have chosen to stay home and play videogames instead. I’ve known trolls who’ve tried to pretend things would work out when they should have been checking in with reality, and that's _definitely_ not working out for them.” She pulled back, clambered to her feet, and held out a hand to the human on the floor, grinning. “But maybe it’s different for humans. So choose.”

After a moment, Buck took her hand and let her haul him up. As soon as he was standing he started to topple, and Terezi caught him with one arm around his waist and one in his hair…

Urgh. That was almost grossly pale. Tavros pulled a face and Terezi flipped him off behind Buck’s back. _Later,_ she mouthed over his shoulder. Tavros nodded. He didn’t exactly want to have The Talk, Conciliatory Edition with his human brother- but if a moirail would stop him from being such an asshole, he was willing to facilitate this.

“Call Dad,” said Buck, his face tilting slightly out of Terezi’s shoulder to look at Tavros. “You can tell him- I dunno. Tell him whatever, as long as it’s true. I can fill in the rest.”

Terezi’s smile softened. “Good call,” she said, rubbing her hand along Buck’s arm and letting him turn his face back into her shoulder. Tavros gagged again and pulled out his cellphone, teeth worrying at his lower lip. It was all very well for Terezi and Buck, talking about the right thing to do and being brave and everything, but he was the one who was going to have to tell his legal guardian, a cop, that his son had shot a guy in a gang squabble and was really, really sorry about it.

 _Asshole,_ thought Tavros with a vicious glance at his brother, and hit the call button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Tuesday 24th June.
> 
> The few people among you who have actually seen Alien Nation may remember that there was a plotline in that where Buck shot a dude, under circumstances both similar and dissimilar to the one presented here. Buck in the show is a very angry young man, and for clear reasons: he's not happy integrating into human society, and he has no tolerance for the racist bullshit aimed at him.
> 
> Obviously since Buck in this AU is human, he's still angry, but with less direction behind it- hence why he ended hanging out with those Purist assholes. He's not lying about what happened, though; as in the show, he didn't start the fight and he wasn't trying to kill anyone, only to defend himself. Unlike in the show his supposed "friends" ditched him and he didn't manage to keep what happened a secret for weeks.
> 
> Since he largely got away with it in the show after coming clean, that's what is going to happen here (because if alien Buck can get away with shooting a human, human Buck can definitely get away with shooting an alien, as awful as that is). Which is why Terezi and Tavros lay the verbal smackdown up there. They're willing to help him, but they are under _no_ obligation to be even slightly nice about it.
> 
> Terezi feels kinda pale for him, because he's an interesting mess. I suspect her interest will wane with time, as Buck grows the hell up.
> 
> Tavros music! Of course, there are [The Pokemon Themes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y4jkHr2MaRo) (and [Dubstep Remixes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KXL7t37zr7c) and [PokeRap](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iRM0-FT0tUA)!), but HUNRonin suggested Country Music and [ this idea amuses me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N1V3JW4HeBs).
> 
> EDIT: [Ryo Hoshi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoshi_Ryo/pseuds/Ryo%20Hoshi) has made music suggestions for [Gamzee](http://www.jamendo.com/en/list/a130780/silent-cavities)!


	13. ==> Be The Protector With The Mission

### CHAPTER TWELVE ==> Be The Protector With The Mission

Equius Zahhak was anxious. He endeavored not to show it, maintaining an appropriately stoic demeanor as he followed Nepeta down streets that he would describe as both filthy and uncivilized. His moirail was in what she called “purrowling mode”; Equius approved. It was perhaps a little feral-looking, but there was no doubt as to the efficacy of her low, stalking movements as a deterrent to adverse attention. No-one had attempted to interfere with their progress, although Equius remained vigilant for possible trouble. There were heads turning to watch them from every alleyway and on every corner but their eyes slid off again as the pair passed.

There was still sweat trickling down Equius’ back from the pressure of being watched, however casually, and he let out a breath that he had been holding for some time when he caught sight of two pale figures waiting by a bus stop. After Terezi and Tavros had been unavoidably detained, he had harbored an irrational concern that their other compatriots would back out at the last moment. Now he could see his concerns were unfounded; one was leaning against the stained and vandalized shelter, and beside him the other was perched on the edge of a seat that had seen better days. The standing figure looked around as they approached, staring at them from behind mirrored shades.

“Hey, hey, it’s the barnyard brigade,” said Strider. “Sure you don’t want to take another swing around the block, leave me to defend my sister’s honor against the tender mercies of the local hoods? Because it’s no trouble. I’ve got this sewn up like a Shaolin Showdown, kickin’ ass for inner peace and world harmony and all that kind of shit.”

Nepeta snickered. Equius flushed slightly, and inclined his head towards the young woman sitting in the bus shelter. “Miss Lalonde,” he said. “I apologize. It was not our intent to place you in any danger…”

“If I was determined to avoid danger, I would not be here,” said the girl, getting to her feet and brushing off her skirt. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Equius, Nepeta. Please, call me Rose; excessive formality seems unwarranted under these circumstances.” She glanced over at her brother. “And make no mistake, I am quite able to defend myself, despite Dave’s claims to the contrary.”

Strider nodded sagely. “True. I may be a kickass warrior, but Rose is a witch. Don’t piss her off or she’ll give you the evil eye and you’ll break out in boils and demons. And not even Doc House could clean that shit up; we’ll all have to go on Jerry Springer. He’ll have tentacle Satan sitting on the couch next to him explaining how one minute he was just minding his own business torturing damned souls and the next- WHAM!” Dave slapped one of his hands into the other. “Rose happens.”

Giggling, Nepeta bounded up to Lalonde and straightened to her full height, her face only a few inches below the human girl’s. “Is that true? Kitten you really purrform magic?”

Rather than taking a step back to preserve her personal space, or flinching, Lalonde merely raised an eyebrow. “Of course not. My brother merely believes that to be the case because he is embarrassingly easy to manipulate.”

“Lies and defamation,” Strider said, pushing off from the bus shelter. “I am as stoic and unmovable as the goddamn Terminator.”

“I see,” said Lalonde, turning to her human brother. “Fascinating that your mind draws such a natural connection between yourself and an artificially constructed being, particularly given the themes in the films of mother-worship and created families. It suggests a severe sense of alienation and a powerful desire for a female figure as mother or lover in your life.” She hummed slightly. “It may be a sign of a burgeoning Oedipal complex.”

To Equius’ interest, Strider turned bright red. “I do not have a fucking Oedipus complex! And besides, she’s your mom too- how do I know you’re not the one that’s finding her inappropriately and incestuously hot? Your mind sure as fuck went there fast!”

A cold sweat broke out on Equius’ face as he started to piece together the meaning of the unfamiliar human phrase. But surely, _surely_ they couldn’t be openly discussing something so lewd.

Lalonde snorted. “Says the one with his mind lodged in the gutter. A sure sign of sexual insecurity if ever I saw one.”

Strider glared back at her. “You know, my mind might be in the gutter but yours is in the sewer, dredging up turds and examining them with a microscope.”

“My interest in those turds is purely academic, I assure you,” said Lalonde, with a small smile. Equius saw her wink at Nepeta before she said: “And all these denials are building a very interesting picture.” She turned to fix Strider with a solemn look. “Dave, I must ask that should you feel compelled to have sex with our mother, and should she agree, the pair of you go to a hotel. I don’t think it would be at all comfortable for me if you remained in the house for such activities.”

Equius made a strangled noise fit to match the look on Strider’s face; Nepeta took her moirail’s hand and patted it gently. “The huntress thinks mew should purrobably stop yowling about pailing now,” she said quietly. “Especpurrly pailing your lusus-Ancestor purrson! It is furry upsetting to her meowrail.”

Lalonde inclined her head towards Equius, ignoring the red-faced Strider completely. “Of course. I do apologize for causing your discomfort.” She turned to look down the street, a cold smile curving her lips as she took in the locale. “Shall we get underway?”

She strode off down the road without waiting for a reply, forcing the other three to hurry after her. As he fell into step beside Equius, Strider leaned across and whispered; “Evil witch, dude, I told you.”

Equius said nothing. From what little he understood of human siblings, their relationships were complicated and best not intervened in by outsiders. Instead, he occupied himself keeping an eye on Nepeta as she chattered away to Lalonde and Strider to ensure that nothing objectionably lewd was said in her presence. Fortunately their conversation was devoted to answering her questions on the oldest Strider sibling. Equius listened with half an ear, curious about the enigmatic human, but he learned very little save for the story of the two Striders leaving their wigglerhood home. To him, it was nothing but further examples of rash and inappropriate behavior on the part of them both. Were it not for Lalonde’s considerably more respectable assurances of her brother’s innocence, Equius would be inclined to consider their mission a waste of time. 

His other eye was on the street signs, watching for the exact location the human bouncer had divulged. Despite his attentiveness he still nearly walked past it, and as he forgot to find his voice the others traveled some three buildings further before noticing he was not with them.

“Hey, big guy, that the place?” called Strider, turning to see where he had stopped. Equius nodded, and the other three walked back to join him, each making their own thoughtful perusal of the unsavory wreck of a hive before them. Caught between a grimy liquor store and a junk-filled plot of scrub ground, its openings had been boarded up at some point and then the boards torn aside. A collection of colorful scrawl, too illegible to be identified as human or Alternian, covered over the soiled and decaying frontage. It looked, if anything, less stable than the burned-out club had, and Equius shuddered at the thought of actually entering the place.

“Now that is a shit-heap,” said Strider, giving a low whistle.

“I think it looks inpurresting,” said Nepeta. Equius cast a surreptitious frown at his moirail, who smiled back brightly. “Don’t you think it’s clawfully fascinating, how the buildings go when nopurry looks aftfur them?”

“I think it looks perilous,” said Equius. He folded his arms. “Nepeta, you are absolutely forbidden from exploring structures like this.”

“But we have to go in to see who Dave and Rose’s brothfur was meeting here!”

Equius opened his mouth for further remonstrations, and was cut off by Lalonde. “We will all be going in,” she said firmly. “This is scarcely an endeavor that any of us could attempt alone and be secure in our personal safety.” Her eyes flickered across each of their faces in turn. “Unless one of you wishes us to reduce our potential forces in case of trouble?”

Considering her words, Equius abruptly found himself considerably more reluctant to leave Nepeta outside. When Lalonde’s question was left unanswered, he made no move to prevent his moirail from dancing away ahead of him and ducking under the broken boards across the doorway, Strider close behind her. He walked with Lalonde to the door, and began to pry away additional boards to make space for himself before he noticed that she was watching him intently.

“May I render some assistance?” he asked, clutching a board to himself as if it could somehow shield him from her look. There was something unsettling about the human girl, more than just the purplish shade of her eyes, that despite himself Equius couldn’t help but think of as _highblooded._

“Why are you here?” she asked. It was a question, not an accusation, her voice filled with nothing but mild curiosity. Equius was glad of the dubious protection offered by his board nonetheless.

“Because this is a suspicious location Dirk Strider was known to visit regularly at this time, and we are attempting to establish proof of his innocence?”

Lalonde shook her head. “You misunderstand me. Why are you here, attempting to clear my brother’s name alongside us?”

Equius frowned; his head dipped forward as he turned back towards the door, and his hair fell like a curtain to separate him from the perturbing human. He peered sidelong at her between the strands. “That is a private matter which I prefer to discuss with my moirail.”

He braced himself, expecting further pressing- certainly most of the humans he had known would not give in so easily- but to his surprise Lalonde simply nodded. “My apologies, then. I try not to give offense, but my understanding of the delineation between friendly overtures and pale solicitations is still woefully inadequate.”

Equius swallowed. “Thank you.”

“Not at all,” said Lalonde. She stepped past him up to the door, and ducked under the boards, pausing on the other side to look back out. It was almost comical. “Shall we?”

With a nod, Equius ducked through the expanded hole, taking great care not to bump his strong limbs against anything breakable like the walls. When he finally straightened in a dark room, bare of anything save a layer of trash, he was surprised to find Lalonde smiling at him. She waited until he had dusted himself off, then turned to lead the way towards the sound of Nepeta and Strider conversing in the next room over.

“Wait,” he said, and she paused, half turning back. “I would not discuss this with anyone but Nepeta, but perhaps it would suffice to say that I find these excursions and the company to be… exhilarating.”

A slow smile grew on Lalonde’s features. “Thank you for sharing, Equius,” she said. “I will of course keep your confessions in strictest confidence, as befits my status as an evil mind-reading witch.” With a wink, she returned to seeking her brother, and Equius was left trying to work out to what extent she had been joking.

By the time he joined the others, they had explored most of the lower floor and found it empty of everything but vermin. By mutual agreement, and as the smallest and lightest, Nepeta was first up the stairs, testing the way before pronouncing it, somewhat bemusingly, as “tortoiseshell safe!” The stairs led to a narrow hall, and behind the second door they finally found something- although whether it was what they were looking for or not was entirely debatable.

Equius looked around the room, nose wrinkling at the sour smell of too many trolls and stained piles that filled the corners. “Someone clearly inhabits this place, but I do not see anyone,” he said. “Furthermore, I find it hard to believe that someone could be so foolish as to come here voluntarily, even an individual as reckless and erratic as your brother.”

Eyes fixed on one of the piles, Strider shook his head. “It’s the right place,” he said, with a nod towards the bright object he was staring at. Looking more closely, Equius flinched away from the obscene plush puppet.

“Your brother is responsible for that... insalubrious item?”

Strider shot him a look that, despite the concealing shades, Equius thought might well be a glare. “Proof he was here, right?”

“It is,” Lalonde agreed. Her lips tightened as she checked her watch. “And this is the correct time. It is possible that his contact has chosen to make themselves scarce, either hearing of his arrest or being disinclined to make themselves known to strangers. Or both; I would not imagine the inhabitants of this place to be comfortably sociable.”

Equius frowned. “If that is the case-“

“INCOMING!” yowled Nepeta, moments before being bowled off her feet by a flare of bright green light. Equius started to spin, looking for her attacker, when a second bolt of energy slammed into his lower thoracic struts and sent him staggering several steps backwards. Beside him, Dave yelled as several smallish figures slammed into him and knocked him to the ground; Equius reached out and with barely a moment’s hesitation plucked one up by the collar. He found himself holding a wriggling troll, smaller than Nepeta and certainly no more than thirteen Earth years old. In the precious moments he spent trying to work out how to dispose of the girl without causing unnecessary harm, she dug her claws into his wrist deep enough to draw blood and thrashed until, with the sound of tearing cloth, she dropped to the ground and scrambled away on all fours.

Before Equius could recover he was hit with another blast of green that sent him reeling, and before his balance recovered he was sent sprawling by another small figure leaping at his torso. The back of his head hit the floor with a crack and something shattered in his mouth when he instinctively clenched his jaw. He rolled his head over and spat out sharp tooth fragments, eyes flickering around to take in their attackers.

He saw a dozen or so young trolls, even the oldest barely more than a wiggler- not that it made them any less dangerous, as he himself had been quite capable of killing someone his current size long before he reached six sweeps. Swarms of them held down Strider and Nepeta- he growled at the sight of his moirail restrained so- while more advanced on a cornered Lalonde. What really made his digestive tract clench in concern were their clothes; all of them were wearing a chaotic mish-mash of colors that gave no hint as to their blood, their sigils marked in black childish scrawl on crude armbands. Given that their eyes were the gray of youth, he could barely guess at what he was facing; they were all small and skinny, too young to tell a lowblood from a highblood by build.

As he started to get up, the blast of green psionics knocked him back again, and before he could twitch a small girl was holding a knife to his throat. Her face, twisted around a vicious, puckered scar, was close enough that he could headbutt her if he so desired- and didn’t mind a severed neck. As he watched, a small drip of maroon blood ran out of her nose and down her chin. Her knife hand didn’t even twitch.

Then a second face appeared over his, this time a boy. He looked somewhere around ten Earth years of age, but his face was set into something older and harder. He stared down at the larger, stronger troll and with a sudden jolt, Equius realized that what he had thought were short, wide horns had in fact once been much longer. The sharp angle at the top was too clean-cut and too symmetrical to be accidental damage; his own broken horn ached with phantom pain. Snapping a horn off in a fight or an accident of strength was one thing, but to deliberately cut one away- and from the color fade it had been close to the base, too, where the core nerve was most sensitive- was another thing entirely.

Equius couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he was going to be sick.

“This shouldn’t take long,” the boy said, with a hint of a lisp that Equius put down to the slightly-too-large fangs poking over his bottom lip. Despite his diminutive stature, he didn’t look at all nervous, crouching down and reaching out to place one hand on Equius’ forehead. For a moment the older troll was confused, and then he remembered the psionic lights. Not just green; _lime._

He tried to pull away without thinking; the knife-edge scored his skin before the metal edge forced him back down. Next he tried to concentrate on the trickle of blood, on the pounding of his blood-pusher, on the sight of his moirail held down and crying out to him. It was no use. Cool fingers brushed his forehead and suddenly all the panic was rushing out of him, pushing to escape like water through a hole. His breathing slowed and even though he knew he was in peril, even though he was surrounded by enemies and Nepeta was in danger, he felt safe.

 _“Stop it!”_ Nepeta was screaming. _“Don’t any of mew lay a claw on my meowrail!”_

It was strange; Equius had half been expecting it to feel like the submission reflex, but his mind was still his own. He was just calm, unnaturally so, every flicker and flame of panic or anger snuffed out by the limeblood’s power. The only thing he could remember that felt even remotely similar were the fear-inducing psionics of the Highbloods, but that was an entirely different experience and, while less immediately pleasant, probably more agreeable.

Summoning the strength to fight from under the waves of peaceful calm was impossible, but that did not prevent his mind from functioning, nor his mouth. Loud enough to be sure the room heard, Equius said; “We are here on behalf of the human Dirk Strider.”

Everything froze, and in the sudden silence the limeblooded boy said; “Bro got arrested. _Everyone_ knows that.”

From his odd angle on the floor, Equius saw Lalonde and Strider share a look. The female human cleared her throat. “As a matter of fact, that is why we are here,” she said. “My name is Rose Lalonde, and the young man you are sitting on there is Dave Strider. He and I are the younger siblings of Bro. Do you understand what that means?”

A few small pairs of eyes narrowed at her. “Do you fink we’re stupid or somefing?” the boy asked, folding his arms and raising his chin defiantly. “It means you all have the same ancestor. Doesn’t mean I believe you”

One of the other children, a girl who only looked slightly older than the lime-blood boy, glanced at Dave and nibbled at her lower lip. “I dunno, Ein, he does kinda look like Bro. An’ I remember this one time Janvin asked him how come he was being so nice to us an’ he said he had a brother that he was lusus for so he was used to little brats.”

Another wiggler of indeterminate gender, who Equius thought might well have been Janvin, nodded in solemn agreement.

“That’s me. One hundred percent pure Strider, accept no imitations,” said Strider, his voice slightly muffled from the way his face was pressed into the floor.

“We were given to understand that we could find someone our brother knew at this location,” said Lalonde, her back still pressed against the wall. “We were hoping to find some evidence that could exonerate him, or at the very least an indication of who might have wanted to frame him.”

A few more glances were shot around the room, and then the limeblooded boy- Ein- tilted his head to look directly at Lalonde and asked; “Do you play any games?”

It would have sounded like an innocuous inquiry, if odd, were it not for the way the room hushed afterward. Lalonde’s brows pinched into a slight frown as she considered her answer.

“I, myself, do not,” she said eventually. “But considering the available evidence, would I be right in assuming that my brother enjoys a game of cards?”

Ein nodded once, sharply, and the blade vanished from Equius’ throat. No sooner had he sat up than he was almost bowled over again by his moirail; Nepeta latched onto him with a will and hissed until everyone else had backed up.

“Nepeta, it is quite alright,” he said, letting one of his hands rest on her back feather-light. “I am unharmed.”

The look she gave him, eyes wide and brimming with green, suggested that she thought otherwise. Equius sighed, holding her close and resolving to talk with her about this later, when they were not surrounded by strangers. Looking around, he saw that the wigglers were scattering around the room, still wary but no longer prepared to fight so desperately. One young boy picked up the obscene puppet that Equius had noticed earlier. It seemed far less lewd when being embraced by a child, in a scene disturbingly reminiscent of some of the younger children at Prospit House when they had chosen to latch onto a stuffed comfortbeast. More concerning were the pair of wigglers who had produced a plastic bottle filled with something viscous and virulently green from a rucksack, and were taking turns to sip from it. Makara had been ingesting sopor at that age, too; as comparisons went, Equius found it an unsettling one.

“I don’t know much,” said Ein, his gray eyes flickering with green light once again as they focused on Equius. “Mostly just what everyone ‘round here knows anyway. The stuff Bro got arrested wiv, it was blue, right?”

Equius looked over at Rose, who nodded. “Yes, that is correct.”

“Dream Nectar,” said Ein, with a knowledgeable nod. “It only came on the streets in the past couple of monfs, but it’s real nasty stuff. You gotta be nuts or desperate or bofe if you’re gonna take it, but vere’s enough people like vat, you know?”

Dave’s head turned slightly towards the pair with the sopor bottle. Ein followed his gaze and snorted.

“Sopor ain’t nofing much if you’re careful,” he said. “Or Honey; I get that sometimes. But Nectar fucks you up _fast._ And that’s not the interesting fing, even.”

“And what is the interesting thing about Dream Nectar?” Rose raised an eyebrow, and Nepeta wriggled around in Equius’ arms until she was peeking out at the small troll.

Ein folded his arms and scowled. “It’s only coming from the Felt pushers.” Seeing their blank looks, he waved a hand in the air. “Okay, so drugs come from dealers, right? And dealers, they’ve got connections. They’ve got to, because veir stuff doesn’t just come out of fin air. For human shit there’s like, loads of sources, but for troll stuff the dealers are basically eiver working for the Crew, or the Felt. And the Crew don’t have Nectar.” He folded his arms and once again his gaze flicked around the four of them. “The Felt guys are really pushing it, too, and that’s not the only fing. People have been going missing.”

“Missing?” Equius echoed.

The boy nodded. “Yeah. Not so the cops would notice and it’s all street people, so vey wouldn’t care even if vey did, right? But it’s too many people, and they’re all trolls. Mostly psychics before now, but since Nectar started showing up more people have been vanishing, especially if they ever done work for the Crew. And then some of them started coming back again a couple of weeks later, so far outta their heads on Nectar that they blew vemselves to shit before anyone could even find out where they were. Cops noticed that, alright.” He scratched at his arm and glanced around the room. “We’ve kinda been trying to stay low- more van usual, I mean- but Yozenn didn’t come home last week and, and, he hasn’t shown up again yet, but…”

His voice trailed off, leaving the room quiet apart from the sound of distant traffic.

“Bro noticed,” said Ein, eventually. “Monfs ago, before Nectar, when it was just a few people. He noticed, and the cops wouldn’t do anyfing so he was trying to do it himself.” He started twiddling his claws, and stared at the floor. “Didn’t want to trust him, when he first showed up asking questions. I mean, who would, right?”

Strider nodded at this judgment on his brother's character. “Dude’s shady as fuck, no argument here.”

“Right,” said Ein, looking up at Strider. “But he was real nice to us. Brought us food and stuff, tried to help us out wiv reading and all that crap. It was ages ago, and I didn’t fink-“ He swallowed, and wriggled his nose briefly to hide a sniff. “I didn’t know they were gonna start going after people who were wiv the Crew, you know?”

“It’s not your fault,” said Lalonde. “My brother is quite willful when he has his mind set to something.”

“It’s a family trait,” Strider added. “And this explains a few things from that whole kidnapping mess. Guess I should thank him for calling in his mobster buddies to save our collective ass.”

“I don’t suppose you know any details of the sort of work he did with the Midnight Crew?” Lalonde asked.

Ein shook his head. “We’re just runners,” he said. “Messages and lookouts and stuff. Nofing fancy. But I don’t fink he would have got in any deeper than he wanted.”

“I concur,” said Lalonde. She tapped her nails thoughtfully on her chin. “So, it seems that my older brother in the course of his investigations either discovered something of sufficient import to make the Felt target him specifically, or else was enough of a thorn in their side that they decided to remove him.” She shook her head. “And of course he would not ask us for assistance, not when it would put us in the same danger. Idiot.”

“Don’t think he found anything,” said Strider. When everyone looked at him, he shrugged. “Or if he did, he had no fucking clue what it was. You think they would have left him alive otherwise?”

“A fair point,” Lalonde agreed. She turned back to Ein, and inclined her head. “Thank you for your invaluable assistance. We will have to carefully consider our next move from here, but hopefully Dirk will be able to resume his regular visits soon enough.” She extended a hand and, after a moment of thought, Ein shook it in a surprisingly confident human gesture.

 _Or perhaps not so surprising,_ Equius thought to himself. After two years on Earth, every troll who ever had dealings with humans could recognize a handshake, and it seemed Ein and his followers were in regular contact with at least five members of the native species. _Although I may wish to be wary of their stab-related etiquette._

The thought was amusing enough to him that he gave a little snort of laughter; everyone looked around at him, and he hastily covered with a cough.

“I think perhaps it is time Nepeta and I were headed home,” he said. Lalonde nodded.

“Dave and myself, also,” she said. She looked back at Ein; two fingers slipped deftly into her pocket and came out with a folded note clasped between them, which she offered to the young troll. “For being such good friends to my brother,” she said, when he hesitated. Nodding, Ein took the money, and it vanished away into his layers of clothing.

Nepeta would not let go of Equius, so he carefully slid his hands into a position to lift her and let her cling to him all the way down the stairs. Voices started up almost as soon as they left the room, talking an inaudible polyglot of Alternian and English, and the four of them left the house in silence.

They were about fifty yards or so down the street when Equius was abruptly blindsided by an explosion of anger, panic, and resentment. He just barely retained the presence of mind to drop his moirail; she landed with a squeak on the sidewalk, but better surprised than crushed by his reaction to the strong emotions. Equius’ hands tensed into claws, a couple more teeth shattered, and with a low growl he whirled back towards the house.

“EQUIPURRS, NO!”

His moirail’s hand on his arm stopped him more surely than a stone wall might have done. He glanced down at her, still fuming.

“That- that- that _freak,”_ he hissed, feeling his eyes flood with reddening fury. “That _outlaw,_ that _amoral brigand,_ he- his powers…”

“I know,” said Nepeta, stepping around to stand in front of him. Her smile, small and fragile and fierce as the rest of her, drained away a little of the poisonous rage building in him. “I’m glad you’re back,” she said, and standing on her tip-toes wrapped her arms around his neck. As her fingers curled in his hair, the last of the anger seeped away, and Equius let it go with a sigh.

When he managed to disentangle himself from his moirail, he found two confused humans looking at him. “I assume there was some pertinent event we missed?” Lalonde asked, eyebrow quirking upwards.

Equius nodded, a dull anger thundering in his thorax as he cast a glare towards the ruined house they had just come from. “Ein was a limeblood. Realizing one has been subject to their psionics is not a pleasant experience.”

Strider made little blasting gestures with his hands. “You mean the pew, pew, Star Wars blaster shit? ‘Cos that sucked to be hit by but I ain’t exactly feeling murderous over it.”

Equius shook his head. “No, not that. Limebloods are unusual, in that while they may have such powers as the one you mention, they also all share a singular ability that is possessed by no other hemocaste.” He paused briefly. “Although the fear-inducing abilities shared by the indigo caste are similar, the abilities of limebloods are more powerful and difficult to pin down, given that I have only heresay and observational evidence to draw upon. I have been fortunate enough not to spend any prolonged period in close proximity to one; all I know for sure is that these abilities led to the near-genocide of their caste.”

Lalonde’s eyebrows shot up. “Indeed?”

Nepeta nodded. “They were supurrsed to present a threat to the Empurr.” She rubbed her cheek on Equius’ arm. “He was acting wrong in there. Ein did something.”

“It was not unpleasant, at the time,” said Equius, turning away from the house. “Not stressful, even before I ceased to notice the interference.” He shuddered. “I do not think I wish to speak to Ein again.”

Strider nodded, looking curiously pale. “Think we can manage that.” He turned to Lalonde. “So, any ideas on how we’re gonna bust some sick truths out of these tangled webs? Got a pair of scissors to take to this stitch job that’s got Bro all sewn up?”

Lalonde pursed her lips. “I am working on it,” she said.

The journey back to the bus stop was quiet, and far from comfortable. Equius let Nepeta hang off his arm, soothing him with her presence, and silently gave thanks that neither of them had landed in such dire straits as to fall in with the likes of Ein.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update! I got all distracted by troll biology headcanons and didn't notice the time.
> 
> Writing Equius and Rose talking to one another was really, really fun. My only regret is that Equius in this AU has fewer buried issues than canon Equius, and thus there is less low-hanging Rose-fodder. *sighs at lost opportunities*
> 
> Equius music! Obviously on Alternia he was fond of slam poetry, what with it being the ancient and respected art of his people. Earth rap, however, lets him down with l00d lyrics and lack of respect for an ancient Alternian artform. By which I mean humans are rapping at all.
> 
> That said, he's had a chance to hear some traditional Chinese music and I imagine him taking to some of it. Not the more peaceful, relaxing stuff that one might associate with Tai Chi, but [drum music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D4hwpSeMN6M), since it has a strong beat and rhythm and less straight-up melody... more like what he's used to. And the choreography would appeal to his sense of order, too. :) From there he could probably spread to the drum music of other cultures.


	14. ==> Be The Snoop With The Connections

### CHAPTER THIRTEEN ==> Be The Snoop With The Connections

Vriska Serket would normally have been bored. Snowman made her attend parties like this one at least once every couple of months- society, she called it, but Vriska couldn't get her head around how dull most of the attendees were. The only thing that made it remotely bearable was treating everyone as a potential mark and seeing how much information she could pump them for.

This party was different, though. Vriska nodded and hummed her way through a conversation with some middle-aged windbag in a disgusting yellow dress that made her look like a tube of butter. Her gaze was fixed across the room on her human guardian. Snowman was mingling as carefully as usual, shaking the hands that needed shaking and dropping smiles like priceless diamonds. It was a beautiful show, soured only by the knowledge that Vriska wasn't really her apprentice.

Apprentice. What a human concept. Trolls studied and they experimented and sometimes they inherited, from ancestors, but who would teach a secret to their replacement while they were still alive? The more people who know something, the less valuable it is to know.

Something brushed against Vriska's arm and she barely managed to stop herself from jumping back. She must have flinched, though, because the dumb broad who had been trying to talk her ear off for the last quarter of an hour pursed her lips and left her hand sitting there on Vriska's forearm.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" the woman asked, blinking at Vriska. The troll girl stared at her blankly for a moment before managing to summon a smile.

"Yes, of course, Ms Wayland," she said, stepping back and out of the woman's grip. "But if you don't mind, I think I should check in with my mother now."

"Oh, of course." She smiled. "Do tell Bianca that Mary says hello."

Vriska nodded and walked off around the edge of the dance floor, ignoring a couple of young men in suits who tried to intercept her. She had entertained some of them back in the beginning, and what she had learned from that was that they were for the most part idiots hoping to curry some favor with her guardian and their own fathers. Or creeps- there had been a couple of those, too, and not just young ones. She had yet to meet a human who was romantically interested in her for reasons that weren't gross and alien.

When she got to her mother, Snowman was sat at a table sipping drinks and talking to a short, bald man in an impeccable white suit. They both fell silent and looked up as she approached.

"Vriska, dear, is there something I can help you with?" asked Snowman, with a raised eyebrow that said she wasn't going to be impressed by anything less than an unexpected riot.

Ignoring her guardian's irritation, Vriska dragged over a chair from the next table over and dropped into it backwards, arms dangling over the backrest. "What, I can't take some time out to come see my mom?"

Snowman gave her a gentle smile that promised Serious Trouble Later. "Vriska, dear, you know I prefer it if you try to socialize at these affairs. You know I'm concerned about your ability to interact with crowds."

"I'm fine with crowds," said Vriska.

Snowman smirked. "With politics, then." She took a long sip from her glass and set it back down on the table. "It is important to maintain appearances, after all."

"Now, now, maybe you're being too harsh on the girl."

Vriska's head snapped around before she could help it, her good eye widening as she stared at the small man sitting with her guardian. She knew that voice; even without the distortion of two phone lines and the bite of irritation, the carefully cultured tones were unmistakeable.

This was the man who had told Snowman that adopting her was a mistake.

The stranger smiled and raised his glass, tilting it towards her, and too late Vriska realized she should have stopped herself from staring. Knowing she couldn't fix it, she instead went with the next best option- brazen it out.

"Who are you?" she asked, not even trying to stop her accent from showing through. From the way Snowman spluttered, she was rude enough, but the little man just smiled at her and held out one pale, slim-fingered hand.

"Doctor Kewe," he said, with a friendly smile. Vriska took his hand. It was cool and soft, and from the glossiness of his stupid blunt human nails she guessed manicured. Her own, she knew, bore callouses from weapons and tools. Her thoughts flickered briefly to Equius, and the device he had agreed to build for her.

"Vriska Serket," she told Kewe, tossing her head to shake the hair out of her face before leaning forwards onto the table. "So, how do you know my mother?"

Snowman narrowed her eyes. "Vriska, I don't think..."

Kewe cut her off with a wave. "No, it's quite alright," he said. "Ms Quattriochi and I work for the same organization. I am- well, I suppose you might call me her boss, although I am really more of a liaison."

He smiled, and Vriska wished she was better at reading human body language because if she hadn't already known he was a phony there was no way she could have worked it out. She returned the gesture with a smile of her own that bordered on baring her teeth; not quite a challenge, but she hoped he got the double meaning. "Soooooooo, I guess that means we'll be getting to know one another better in future, then."

"I expect so," Kewe agreed, setting his glass down on the table. He hadn't drunk anything from it, Vriska noted. "But for the moment, Ms Quattriochi and I have business to discuss, so if you would?"

Vriska glanced over at her guardian, who gave a faint, imperceptible nod. Pushing off the chair and turning it with a loud scrape, Vriska inclined her head to them both. They looked odd sitting at the same table, one so dark and one so light; humans were strange, all the same color on the inside and different on the surface.

"See you around," she said, turning and strolling away as if she didn't care in the least for what they were doing. She could feel Snowman watching her and knew her guardian wasn't fooled, but then she hadn't been expecting to fool her. The best thing would be to make her think that she, Vriska, intended to sulk; making her way to a corner of the room, she slumped against a wall and folded her arms, looking as put-out as possible. It wasn't as convincing as she would have liked, mostly because part of her was crowing over the fun of finally playing the game for herself.

"Well, fancy seeing you here," said a voice, and Vriska's mock boredom became genuine surprise as she turned to see that cop- Detective Sikes, that was it- standing next to her. The long-haired man was slumped against the wall next to her; he was wearing his usual scruffy clothes, and the thought briefly crossed Vriska's mind that even in jeans and a leather jacket he didn't stand out as much in the crowd as she did with gray skin and horns.

"Helloooooooo, Detective," she said, flashing her teeth back at him. "I didn't know you had an invitation to this party."

He smirked and tapped the badge on his belt. "I got an invitation to all the parties, Miss Serket." He looked back out across the dance floor and Vriska followed his gaze to see his partner circling around the other side of the room, looking just as out of place in his cheap cop suit. "Interesting company your mother keeps."

"I wouldn't know about that," said Vriska, and to her surprise there was a bitter tone to the words. Detective Sikes clearly noticed it, too. His eyebrows shot up towards his hairline.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asked. Vriska snorted.

"Like I'd just tell you anything," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. The cop shrugged.

"No skin off my nose," he said. Then his smile dropped, and he looked down at her just as she glanced up at him. She was suddenly caught by his dark human eyes, and the storm brewing behind them. Her heart sped up and the already-warm room was suddenly stifling. "But if you do happen to come across anything, about Dirk Strider or perhaps some new drug, you know we'd love to hear about it."

He didn't wait for an answer, flashing her another smile then pushing off the wall to stroll across the floor. Vriska stared after him, watching the Society People scatter around him like waterbird chicks from a prowling purrbeast, and caught herself admiring the way the light was reflecting off his hair.

 _Urgh, trust Terezi to get the handsome cop practically being her lusus._ Vriska shook her head to clear it of useless clutter, then started to circle around the floor to see what was happening over by the table without obviously staring. Not that she would have been alone. Half the room was gawping, probably because Detective Sikes and his partner stood out like sore thumbs. Vriska ignored the flash of jealousy when Snowman offered her hand to Sikes and led him onto the floor for a dance. Firstly because whatever was happening was just politics and business, and secondly because she was not interested in either of them or their dumb dancing. She ignored the two of them to focus instead on Detective Francisco and Doctor Kewe. Pupa's guardian seemed to be talking calmly and politely to the other man, and Vriska wished she was close enough to hear what they were saying. Or that she could lip-read. Stupid noisy party.

By the time Detective Francisco finally gave up and went to collect his partner, Vriska had made sure to be standing in a good spot behind a column, where she could spy on Kewe but he would have trouble seeing her. She watched the Doctor as the two cops left, seeing him take a sip of his drink for the first time that night before getting to his feet and striding over to her mother. He whispered something in her ear and the two of them started walking for the door. Vriska followed, dodging around clusters of gossiping humans and weaving her way across the middle of the dance floor to avoid losing them.

At the last moment as they stepped out of the door, Snowman looked back around; Vriska just barely managed to duck behind a cluster of well-dressed businessmen chatting about local politics.

One of them, noticing her, raised a pair of thick eyebrows that looked like flutterbug grubs. "Hello there, miss," he said, blinking as his eyes scanned her horns, her eyepatch, the glint of metal showing between her glove and her sleeve. "I don't believe we've been introduced."

"Get lost," said Vriska, poking her head out just in time to see the last glimpse of Snowman's back before the door swung shut. "Losers."

She ignored the surprised rumbling behind her as she charged across the room and wrenched the door open. There was no sign of either Snowman or Kewe in the corridor. Seeing her looking, the waiter stood against the opposite wall- a young human man whose hair was disagreeing with his obvious attempts to look smart- glanced down the hall to his left and shuffled his feet.

Vriska grinned at him. "Thanks, sucker," she said, streaking past him before he could reply. She arrived at the first turning just in time to see a white-clad arm closing a door further down the corridor. It was tempting to run straight towards it, but instead Vriska schoolfed herself to patience, placing her feet carefully on the thick, patterned rug underfoot. It was probably really expensive; it had the smell of age to it, and she was sure she remembered Crowbar telling her about how valuable fancy carpets like this were if they happened to be made generations ago and on the other side of this poxy planet. Crowbar wasn't great with culture and stuff, but he knew money when he was standing on it, and that was a skill Vriska could appreciate.

There was no sound in the hallway as she approached the door, but she still glanced left and right to be certain she wouldn't be seen. Nobody was watching, so Vriska dropped to one knee in front of the door and, breathing as slowly and quietly as she possibly could, put her ear to the polished wood. It took a couple of seconds to find a flat place to listen from; the whole thing was covered in carvings, the shapes of fruit and flowers etched into the heavy slab of timber. Not thick enough to keep out sound, though, and Vriska smirked as her nose pressed close to the richly wax-scented wood.

"...to observe, not interfere," Kewe was saying. Without his face to distract her, it was even more obvious to Vriska that he was the same person she had overheard months ago. Not that she hadn't worked it out already, but the confirmation was good to have.

"I don't see why I need you to observe at all," Snowman replied, a hint of impatience coloring her voice. "Our operations in this city have been running smoothly under my guidance for years now."

"Smoothly like that fire the other week? Or the mall before that?" Vriska heard something heavy scraping in the other room- a chair across floorboards, perhaps. "You were supposed to be laying down the foundations for our progress, slowly and subtly. I would hardly call this much visibility successful."

Vriska heard the clack of her guardian's heels on the floor; she could imagine her pacing as she did at the Mansion when working through problems, ash scattering from her cigarette holder as it amplified her small gestures. "I would say that we've been remarkably effective. Don't make the mistake of thinking every customer of ours has made the evening news; the police in this city are learning to fear Dream Nectar even as more and more Alternians buy it from us."

"And what if they track it back to us?" Kewe sounded more curious than anything else. "This is a project requiring long-term evidence, Snowman, not short term spectacle."

A loud slam made Vriska twitch back from the door. It took her a second to find her place again, and in that moment she missed the start of Snowman's reply.

"...trust me, just say it!" the crime lord hissed, her voice forcefully low to mask a shout that could draw attention. "I know you've never liked me, Scratch, but this goes beyond that. I have led the Felt from a low-rent band of thugs to near-total domination of this city, and in all that time when have I ever shown less than perfect loyalty to the Organization?"

"Some might say that your choice of company is evidence enough," said Kewe- or Scratch. Vriska noted the codename for later reference, then stiffened at her guardian's next words.

"So this is about Vriska? Again?"

"Not just her." Scratch's voice dropped, becoming smooth and cold. "Did you really think we would fail to notice your... _relationship..._ with Spades Slick? Fraternizing with the enemy is frowned on by most clandestine organizations, you realize."

"He's a good source of information," said Snowman. Her words were tight and forced, and Vriska could imagine the woman gritting her teeth. "The Midnight Crew-"

"Is an obsession with you," said Scratch, bluntly. "I know what you've been doing, Snowman, and why. I always know. Your past loyalty and success have bought you a measure of leniency, but in a matter as crucial as this _He_ has decided you need supervision, and I concur with that decision.”

There was a long pause from the other side of the door. "Well, then," said Snowman, her words perfectly calm as if they were merely old friends discussing pleasantries. "If you are to observe, then I suppose I should invite you to a little afterparty I'm throwing tonight."

"An afterparty?" asked Scratch, echoing Vriska's thoughts as she crouched by the door. "What sort?"

Snowman chuckled. "As you so crassly pointed out a minute ago, those Detectives are sniffing awfully close to the mark. I thought it was worth putting together some arrangements, just in case, and I assume you will want to see them."

"I'll be very interested," said Scratch. "Thank you for your trust; I do enjoy to be a good guest as much as an excellent host."

"Yes, I recall," said Snowman. Her heels clacked against the floor again, and hearing them come towards the doorway Vriska scrambled back and ran for the nearest corner. She practically dove into hiding, and peeked back just in time to see the heavy carved door open and the two crime lords exit. Vriska's good eye narrowed as she saw them smiling at one another, chatting away like old friends. She waited for them to get a decent start on her, then followed. At the corner, Snowman bent down to lay a feather-light kiss on Scratch's cheek. Vriska didn't blush; maybe a stupider troll or one who was less well-cultured in Earth society would see it and be embarrassed at the pale indecency, but she knew enough alien body language to recognize the false politeness.

Snowman turned right, back towards the ballroom and the party, while Scratch headed straight on towards the stairs down. Vriska hesitated for less than a moment; she needed more information, and she wasn't going to get that by following her guardian.

Stalking Scratch was wiggler's play, and Vriska found her mind sifting through what she had learned so far. The name of the drug- Dream Nectar- was a nice touch, and Kanaya would probably like to know it, but it wasn't nearly as useful as the information that Snowman had a trap planned for anyone trying coming after her. Pupa and her former Scourge Sister were going to owe her big-time for this one- she could probably even just tell it to them up front and still hold it over them!

And then there were the other things, the implications in what Snowman was saying. The Felt made money from all sorts of criminal enterprise, Vriska knew that, and drugs were definitely included. She'd seen the vans being loaded, the boys having discussions over maps to labs that brewed meth and sopor and anything else the city demanded. But what Scratch had been talking about sounded like more than just business as usual- whoever this “Organization” behind the Felt were, they had bigger fish to fry than the small-time druggies they were hooking on their line. 

Vriska grinned as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Cold air rushed past her as Scratch stepped out of a side door, but she hardly noticed. In her mind, the balls were in the air, the irons in the fire, and she was dancing on the edge of triumph and disaster where she was always meant to rule. She gave Scratch a few seconds to get clear of the door before running over and pulling it open again.

Outside the world was dark, the distant lights of the city not enough to banish the depths of an Earth night. She could see a few stars overhead, suns light-years distant clearer than the shadowy cars that were only yards away. Vriska paused for a moment as her eyesight adjusted and started scanning the driveway for a human silhouette.

In that moment, something brushed against the hair on the top of her head. On instinct Vriska leapt forward, but was brought up short by a sudden sharp yank as the hand- because it was a hand- closed in her hair. Growling, she jabbed an elbow back into her attacker, and hit something too solid to be flesh with a dull clatter. A second hand came up and she sensed it closing around her left horn; shrieking, she tried to yank her head free, and both of the hands on her slipped slightly but retained their hold. A thumb brushed close to her hornbed, sending a sick, pleasant shiver down her back. It was enough to kill the immediate panic, and realizing what she should have done all along Vriska started to scratch at the hands on her head and reached her mind out to grab at her attacker.

It was harder than it should have been to find the thoughts behind her- too different, too alien. A human. She had just managed to get a decent mental grip when one of the hands she was fighting to hold slipped free and pressed down hard at the base of her left horn.

Vriska dropped, and was caught by a hand under one of her shoulders. The other was still gripping her horn and massaging the hornbed, and as her body gave up working so did her mind. She lost her grip on her assailant’s thoughts, on her thoughts, on everything; the world became soft and fuzzy around the edges, and all she could think of was how warm the person holding her was.

Clumsily, she tilted her head back, and managed to slowly blink when she saw someone she thought was familiar. She had been following him, right? Or had he been following her? Either way, she was pissed about it. She could feel the anger, roaring away behind a wall. A fuzzy, fuzzy wall. Vriska giggled because it was funny, but then she stopped because it turned out to be more weird-funny than laugh-funny.

“Dear me, that really is effective, isn’t it?” said the man holding her. His name was queue, which made her think of lines, which made her giggle again. “Well, it would hardly be decent of me to leave you out here unattended in this state. I’m sure Snowman will be disappointed, but she will understand.”

He hoisted her up, draping one limp arm across his shoulders, and began to drag her across the gravel. Something in Vriska started to panic- she didn’t want to go with this man, she was sure of it- and she started thrashing. Or tried to. Mostly she just twitched, and the man chuckled.

“As I understand it, this will take around half an hour to wear off completely,” the man said. “Longer, if I have to put you under again. This will be much less unpleasant if you just cooperate.”

The words weren’t familiar, but something in the way he said them was. A memory came to Vriska, a glimpse of something huge and white and many-legged, the smell of blood and the sound of cracking bone. A hot ball of loss and terror flared inside her gut, muffled and silenced but no less real, and her twitching increased. She couldn’t do anything, she knew that, but she couldn’t stop trying either. A fear almost as old as she was rising in her blood.

Cold tears spilled out of her eye as the man reached a car- white, like his suit- and pulled the key out of his inside pocket. She was Vriska Serket and she wasn’t meant to be helpless. She had all the plans and all the luck and all the options and she was the one in control, always, because there were only two kinds of people in the world and she knew she was a winner.

Winners never got eaten.

The trunk opened with a soft click, and the man hoisted Vriska up and rolled her in. A shock ran up her horns as they bashed against the side of the trunk; hearing her whimper, the man took a few moments to tuck her in more comfortably, curling her up like she was lying in a recuperacoon and even brushing a few strands of hair back out of her face.

“I know what you’ve been doing, too,” the man said, conversationally. “You’re not as good a spy as you think you are, Vriska, and the Midnight Crew wouldn’t recognize subtlety if it affixed a “kick me” sign to their backs.” He shook his head, looking sadly back towards the building. “I was willing to let it lie awhile- after all, the longer you spent betraying her, the less likely we were to lose Snowman to you- but this little eavesdropping stunt is a step too far. I suppose it is fortunate, in a way. I had been planning to arrange a test of loyalty while I was here, and this will do nicely.”

Vriska managed to make a noise, an almost-mute hybrid of a growl and a whimper. The man chuckled as he reached up to grab the trunk door. “Oh, don’t worry, my dear. You won’t be in any unnecessary discomfort.” With a quick, confident gesture he slammed the trunk shut, sealing Vriska off in the darkness with his final words ringing in her ears.

“After all, I am an excellent host.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Thursday 10th July.
> 
> I think that chapter turned out well. Did you think that chapter turned out well? Because I think it did. *smug smiles*
> 
> Vriska is a hard one to pick music for, and would probably just insist that Earth music is dumb, so in lieu of a well-thought out suggestion please enjoy [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1HICfXbFBM) [medley](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wcgvLiNYCcA) [of](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0qFwWgBnHQY) [piratically](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOr7c7ybAgE)-[themed](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TZrh6eooyrg) [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ot4xp6XSJh8).


	15. ==> Be The Prince In The Shadows

### CHAPTER FOURTEEN ==> Be The Prince In The Shadows

Eridan Ampora looked up through shifting water to the silver glow of the moon. His eyes were well-adapted to darkness, but they weren’t used to such a pale light. Everything around him seemed washed out, gray, unreal. It made an acceptable substitute for dreaming.

With a flick of his feet he was diving again, gills rippling along his sides as the water streamed past and through. There was nothing to interfere with it; he wasn’t wearing anything but a pair of pajama pants, not nearly as much as he would have worn on Alternia. Earth’s oceans were different, harder to breathe and bitter-tasting.

 _One day, I’m gonna get them to clean this abysmal filth a theirs up,_ Eridan thought, letting himself drift awhile in a warmer current. _Make these seas actually habitable by someone a quality. It’s a fuckin’ disgrace, the state of them._

Disgraceful or not, the water was cool and comfortable, supporting his weight in the way beds and piles never did. The desire for sopor slime was like an aching, empty hollow in his upper thorax. It wasn’t addiction or even exhaustion so much as it was the memory of rest, of days where the dreams were muted and nights when his bones didn’t ache.

A bubble escaped as Eridan yawned. It spiraled up to the surface and popped on a wave. The seadweller shook his head clear then turned back towards shore; he’d been swimming long enough and he knew from experience that soon he was going to fall asleep whether he wanted to or not. Doing it out in the ocean, when nobody knew where he was or what he was doing, was… tempting, actually, but still a bad idea.

From the sea, the entrance to the small Crocker harbor looked more like the mouth of a cavern. Eridan swam past the roped buoys without surfacing, avoiding the looming hulls of the yachts that rested by the piers. From below the waterline the vessels weren’t nearly so flashy- clearly the work of land-dwellers, never thinking to look below the surface. Eridan swam around to the far end of the sheltered dock; distant, filtered moonlight glinted off steel that was just beginning to rust. In one fluid motion he grabbed the ladder and pulled himself in, rising out of the water with a splash and a gasp that faded into the gentle sounds of a sleeping harbor. Waves lapped against wood and stone and metal, the breeze whispered past, and Eridan dragged himself dripping up onto the dock. Out of the water, his sodden pajama pants slopped about and clung to his legs. Eridan grimaced and silently wished he were in his own hive where he could just take them off and drop them somewhere to be retrieved later. Not that he cared about the sensibilities of some dumb human broads who were probably asleep anyway, but he _really_ didn’t want to be walking around vulnerable in a house full of servants who didn’t work for him.

Sitting on the end of the wooden dock, Eridan did his best to wring out his hair and pants legs. It wasn’t a great effort. Sighing, he gave up and slumped over backwards, dropping limp onto slick planks. It was tempting just to fall asleep there, but if he rolled off the dock and ended up drifting between two of the docked yachts the results would be unpleasant.

Just as he was considering maybe getting back up and heading indoors, he heard a distant rumble. Eridan pushed himself up into sitting, cocking his head to listen. The sound was getting louder- no, drawing closer, he realized. He knew that noise from the boat trips he'd taken with Harley, and more lately with Crocker. There was a boat coming towards the harbor. In the middle of the night.

 _Shit._ If Eridan hadn't known for a fact that he was too aristocratic for any dirtblood psionics, he would have suspected himself of levitating to his feet. The webs between his toes protested as they slammed against the dock, and he ignored them. He needed to find his rifle, find Jade, find Harley because someone was coming and there was no fucking way they meant well. His hands wrapped around metal rails and he vaulted up the short run of steps onto the main gangway. His vascular pump was pounding with cold calculation as he tried to figure out who it could be- too many people who hated them, not enough who would know where to look- and his fingers itched for his gun. Stupid lousy human rifles. If Ahab's Crosshairs hadn't been totally fucking destroyed taking out Gl'bgolyb, there was no way he would have gone swimming unarmed.

Eridan was less than ten feet away from the door when the overhead lights clicked on and illumination flooded the harbor. On instinct he dove, over the side of the dock and under the water moments before the door leading up to the house swung open. He hissed as one arm scraped along the side of a yacht, but he managed to push off and resurface under the planks of the dock before he was crushed between the bobbing vessels. He trod water, keeping himself steady as footsteps walked overhead. Squinting up, he could only see flashes through the planks, too quick to decipher.

Whoever the traitor up there was, they didn't seem inclined to move far. Eridan kept his mouth closed, breathing through his gills and hoping that any splashing he made was covered by the water lapping against the concrete supports. The rest of his attention was focused on the blistering ball of pure fury that was growing in his gut. He wanted to get out of the water, tear the intruder's head off, get his rifle and massacre every last pathetic grubfucking pirate who dared threaten him and his people. He wanted their heads on sticks, their hearts on platters, their eyes as trophies. He wanted vengeance for every unspoken insult they offered him by even attempting this. He didn't care if they were armed; he could take it. He was a royal-blooded seadweller and according to all Kanaya's research, even a bullet to the brain wouldn't stop him until he was done killing all the fuckers who needed to be dead.

All that was stopping him was the threadbare knowledge that he didn't know what was going on, or who the person overhead was. The thought of Jade chewing him out- or worse, not chewing him out at all- after fucking up and eviscerating some perfectly innocent bystander that she probably cared about or something...

... yeah, he could afford to wait and figure out what was going on here.

The water rode higher and pushed him back as the engine growled into dock; Eridan scrabbled to grab onto a slimy pillar of concrete and gave silent thanks that nobody could see how undignified he looked. The water calmed and he slipped under, swimming out towards the newly-arrived vessel. Slowly, so as not to make noise, Eridan surfaced again and shook his head to clear the water out of his ears. There was a gangplank leading down from the boat, and he heard footsteps creaking along it.

"I was expecting you hours ago," said a voice. Eridan recognized it immediately; Betty Crocker, Jade's ancestor. The knowledge should have made him relax, but instead it set him even more on edge. Sure, she'd been sweet as honey to all of them the whole time they'd been there, but Eridan had been watching and Bec didn't like her at all. Maybe it was only a tame fucking barkbeast, but the only other person he'd seen Bec dislike that much was him, Eridan, and he wouldn't trust himself as far as he could shove a spaceship.

"There was bad weather," said another voice, this one male and unfamiliar. Eridan had spoken to enough ambassadors and world leaders to recognize that English wasn't the man's first language, but he had no idea what was. "You should be glad we made it at all. Is the shipment ready?"

"Yes," said Crocker. Her footsteps walked past overhead; Eridan bobbed down as the shadow flickered past. "As are the intended locations. Assuming your people can supply the labor promised and follow simple instructions, we should be ready to begin full production within the month, but this should tide you over until then."

The man chuckled, following her across the dock. "That is good. He will be pleased to hear of your preparations."

"I am quite sure He will be," Crocker said. Eridan cocked his head; was that frustration? Staying low in the water, he swam after the pair, keeping a couple of feet behind them until they stopped at the far end of the harbor by the smallest, dingiest yacht.

"There is one other thing," the man said. "According to our friend in the city, there has been a problem with the warehouse."

The pause was just barely above frigid. "A problem?" Crocker asked, in the same sort of tone that someone might reserve for a rotten fish in their recuperacoon.

"Our, ah, _insurance_ policy got out of hand. Some troll was shot in the building next door, and now it's crawling with cops."

Crocker made a _tsk_ noise. “After all the time we spent setting it up?” She paused; Eridan bobbed over to the nearest concrete pillar and rested against it. Normally he wouldn’t need the support at all, but he was out of practice and tired, and the last thing he wanted to do in this death-trap of a dock was to slip under and end up between two yachts. “We’ll have to switch to the backup location, but you understand that’s not been prepared.”

“As long as it’s secure,” the man replied. “Do you want to stay for the loading?”

“It is my dock,” Crocker replied. Eridan scowled and dropped down in the water; it didn’t sound like they would be moving out of his way any time soon. The man barked something in a language he didn’t understand, and more footsteps started to sound along the dock. Eridan craned his neck, looking upwards at the shadows flickering overhead.

He was trapped down here, but he had to find the others and warn them that Crocker was up to something. On the other hand, while Feferi might believe him on his word alone- there had been enough times in the past that he couldn’t tell her everything- Jade wouldn’t, especially not about her ancestor. Well, maybe both his problems had the same solution. Slowly, so as not to disturb the water or start splashing, Eridan pushed off and started swimming for the newly-docked boat.

His hands left the water first, claws biting into the metal just enough for him to haul himself out into the air. Clinging to the prow, blocked from view by the bulk of the vessel, he stiffened his jaw and dragged himself hand over hand up the underside of the curve. It was an exhausting climb, awkward and heavy on his arms. After every movement he froze, listening for any sign that he had been seen or heard, but none came. With a last heavy breath of effort, he hooked his forearms over the edge of the deck rail and pulled himself up just far enough to peek over the side. From his new vantage point he could see a half-dozen humans carrying crates from the dingy yacht at the end of the harbor to the sleek ship he was dangling from- a smuggler’s vessel, he could tell. Eridan waited until all their eyes were turned away from him, then vaulted up and over the rail onto the deck. He slipped behind a pile of the crates that they were bringing on board.

Pause. Wait. Make sure nobody saw. It was coming back to him like second nature, a game from years ago when he was a successful FLARPer, and the Orphaner, and one of the most feared hunters on Alternia. He’d used the same skills from time to time on the ship, too, tracking down the malcontents who threatened the safety of the crew- of Feferi- and dancing around them just like this. Both the hunter. Both the hunted.

There hadn’t been any reason for this since they’d arrived on Earth, and Eridan hadn’t even known how much he missed it. His teeth bared in an almost feral grin; he felt dangerous again.

_Now if I only had my fuckin’ rifle, I could show these sons a bitches a thing or two._

The deck nearby creaked as someone walked up. Eridan shuffled around the crates a little for better cover and held his breath. A pair of brown human hands appeared right next to him, the owner setting down a new crate next to the others before retreating. Letting out a small sigh at the close call, Eridan waited until the nearest footsteps were a few feet away before crawling over to the new crate and trying to find a crack in the wood to peer through. There were none; even the gaps between the planks were tight, giving away nothing about the contents.

Eridan huffed and checked over his shoulder. Still unseen, he reached up and hooked his claws under one of the nails that held the lip of the crate down. He was in an awkward position for leverage; his muscles tensed enough to stand out starkly against his skin, turning his arm into a steel bar and his hand into a pry that tugged the nail up out of the bite of the wood. He had to shuffle around a bit more to reach the second nail and exposing his back to danger made him jumpy, but it soon joined its brother on the deck with a small clink. He dropped back into cover moments before he heard feet on the gangplank again.

Eridan waited until the human had walked across to the other side of the deck, deposited their burden, and started to leave. He shuffled back over to the opened crate and slowly, fighting to avoid noise, tugged the lid off towards himself. It was fairly light; he lowered the leading edge to the deck with no trouble, then knelt up to look inside.

Packed in stiff polystyrene trays, a layer of clear plastic sacs filled with blue gel met his examination. It was hard to tell under the floodlight, but Eridan thought they might be glowing slightly. Cautiously, he reached out with a single finger and prodded one of the sacs, leaving a light impression that oozed back into shape. His nose twitched at the faint scent under the heavy smell of the wood and the water and sterile chemicals. Sickly-sweet and bitter in the back of his throat, it pulled him in, drawing him closer and closer to the nearest package of shimmering blue…

The sound of people walking up the gangplank brought Eridan back to his senses. He quickly shoved the lid back on the crate and backed into better cover.

“So where is the second location?” the smuggler Captain was asking.

“Also in LA,” Crocker told him. Her footsteps, easily distinguished by the click of her heels, came to a halt in front of Eridan’s pile of crates. “It’s owned by a shell of one of Crockercorp’s subsidiaries, so it’s harder to exercise direct control over it, but I believe your people there have been taking good care of the place.”

“The Organization is very fortunate in its employees,” the man replied. “May I have the coordinates of the warehouse?”

“Of course,” said Crocker. She rattled off a list of numbers; Eridan screwed his eyes shut and listened, repeating them back to himself in a silent mantra the moment she was done.

“Alright,” said the man. “We should be done loading in just a few minutes, and then we’ll be out of your way.”

Eridan opened his eyes and started scouting out the route to the door. It reaffirmed his original thought- the easiest way in would be to stow away as they left, then jump over the side and swim back once things were quiet. He tucked his feet up and settled in for a wait.

“What’s that?” asked Crocker. Her footsteps crossed in front of his cover, and splashed. Eyes widening, Eridan looked around to see the trail of water he had left across the deck, and down to see the growing puddle he was sitting in.

Fine. Plan B it was. _And I hope Jade ain’t too attached to her Ancestor._

Eridan slammed backwards into the stack of crates, knocking them onto Crocker and the smuggler Captain. Before any of the humans could react he was running, heading straight for the gangplank and beyond it the door up to the house. Shouting started behind him and someone jumped into his path. Without breaking stride, Eridan grabbed the man’s arm and hooked his leg behind the human’s ankle, dragging it out to knock the man to the floor and letting go when he heard a sick little pop and screaming. Fastest way out was a straight line, no getting cornered under the dock or trapped in the water.

Two more humans were waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp. One flew into the water with an unchecked shove, but the other managed to slam a heavy tool that looked like a bent metal bar across Eridan’s head. The blow glanced off one of his horns; Eridan hissed at the icy jolt that ran through the nerves at the base, but turned and ducked and got in close before the man could manage another hit. The guy managed to hold onto the bar even as a clawed hand closed around his throat and started to squeeze. It bounced uselessly off Eridan’s back, leaving nothing but bruises that could be easily ignored.

A loud crack split the air and something punched into Eridan's upper thorax from behind. Winded, he dropped his victim, barely managing to stamp down and break the man’s leg before he could get back up. Human bones, fucking joke, brittle as anythin'. Another crack slammed into his gut and this time he saw it, the hole that appeared in his body and started to seep thick purple blood and _oh fuck, that was a gun, he was shot!_ He had to make it to the door, find Jade and Feferi before he stopped thinking straight.

_CRACK!_

The third gunshot missed, but the damage was done. With a snarl, Eridan whirled, marching back up the gangplank towards the pathetic brown monkey that dared to threaten him. Him, a _highblooded seadweller,_ pinnacle of fucking evolution and apex predator of an entire galaxy! His fins flared and he hissed at the human, who paled and scrambled back, raising his gun for another shot. Eridan barely even felt the bullet strike; his whole world had narrowed to a violet-tinted pinhole, focused on the pulse in the man's neck. He was going to rip that out with his teeth.

"A gun!?" shouted a voice. Crocker. She was scrambling away from him, not that it would do her much good. He was still going to kill her next. "You idiot! Do you have any idea how long it takes them to go down?"

A couple more shots fired in his direction and missed. Eridan growled and reached out to shove a crate aside. His limbs were moving slowly, as if they were dragging in sopor slime, and the bloody tint to his vision was getting fuzzy around the edges. He opened his mouth, pulled in another breath, and wondered why it was so hard to fill his non-aquatic oxygen bladders.

No matter. He was going to turn the insolent land-dwellers into chunks of bloody meat. Another crate scattered aside, but as it slid away it knocked against his shin. Eridan stumbled, and suddenly his legs gave out. He slumped, kneeling, to the deck. His breathing was coming hard and ragged now, and it still hardly seemed to be doing anything. He was suffocating, shaking all over, his body breaking down and disobeying completely as he tried to force it to crawl towards his enemy. He was less than three feet away when he collapsed onto his face, unable to move.

"Thank god," said the human man. "That was like a zombie movie, no?"

There was a feminine snort. "Not particularly," said Crocker. A delicate foot shoved Eridan in the side and rolled him over. His attempt to bite it was brought up short by a sudden vicious pain that spanned his entire thorax, and his gasp died when no air came from his lungs. The only thing that was moving right were his eyes; they flickered in a frenzy between the two foes that stood over him. "I've seen the reports. Trolls in general and cool chroma trolls in particular tend to be hard to stop with bullets. The LAPD recommend tasers." She prodded him with her toe again, and Eridan stiffened in silent agony. "Fortunately, four bullets to the torso is enough to stop even the most hardy of aliens."

The man frowned and raised his gun again, pointing it directly at Eridan's head. "I think I'd rather make sure."

A small smile, too cold to be called amused, appeared on Crocker's face. "Whatever you do, make sure the body won't be found," she said. "I will have to report him missing tomorrow. Better if his disappearance is put down to a tragic accident, or teenage wanderlust." She sighed. "My granddaughter will be grief-stricken, but I suppose there is no avoiding it."

The man nodded. "I understand." He waved an arm towards the dock. "It is best, Madame, if you were not here when we cast off."

Crocker smiled. "Of course," she said. "Carry on, Captain."

Eridan saw her turn and walk away, heard her footsteps echo around the natural cavern as he fought for breath. The Captain smirked down at him over the gun barrel.

"Good riddance," he said, and fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Friday 18th July.
> 
> DUN DUN DUUUUN! Drama ensues! Will Eridan survive? Will Crocker's nefarious plots come to fruition? Tune in next time for the thrilling continuation of BITTW!
> 
> For Eridan's Earth Music, it is apparent that he insists all Earth music is terrible and inferior. However, his studies of human military history may have had some musical side effects that he insists he listens to for [purely](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XUzE1WeMc2g) [academic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXQHpO4eEgk) [purposes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYJFUZEazWg).


	16. ==> Be The Custodian With A Crush

### CHAPTER FIFTEEN ==> Be The Custodian With A Crush

Kanaya Maryam sat in the basement lab, trying unsuccessfully to concentrate on the work set by her tutor. Every few seconds her eyes flickered up to glance at the analysis running on the computer screen, before dropping again to try and wrest some meaning from a dense treatise on the European colonization of the Americas. So far all she had learned was that history was considerably more confusing a subject than biology. The text, quite frustratingly, did not give any reasoning behind some of the actions taken by the long-dead humans. While Kanaya understood the need to avoid speculation she found a number of events difficult to interpret, no doubt thanks to her alien perspective.

Overall, she would have much preferred to be continuing her development work on the nutrient enzymes the Mothergrub would require after hatching. Unfortunately the direction of any further progress was dependent on the outcome of the analysis she was now monitoring and no amount of staring at the progress bar would reduce the time spent on the project. She was starting to suspect it was taking longer every time she looked. Part of her knew that it would make far more sense to leave the lab and seek out Rose, who could help explain the conundrum that was human history and would provide more pleasant company than a series of sterile alien machines. The rest of her was reluctant. The lab, while currently devoid of interest, was a haven from the increasingly toxic atmosphere in the house above. Things had been improved somewhat since the Harleys left, but between Dirk’s arrest and her introduction of Vriska to the discussions matters had grown tense again.

To put it simply, she was hiding, and boredom was a small price to pay for peace.

For the third time in a minute she looked up at the slowly advancing progression bar, sighed, and returned to her place in the book. She had just managed to reread a passage on Cortez for the sixth time when her cellphone buzzed in her pocket. Dropping the pen that had been uselessly tapping against a pad for an hour now, Kanaya pulled out her cell and frowned at the unfamiliar number before answering the call.

“This is Kanaya Maryam,” she said, wondering if it was worth demanding to know how this person had got her number. Their private phones were all unlisted and the numbers handed out only to the most trusted of associates; as Doctor Lalonde had pointed out, they were simply too famous for it to be otherwise.

From the other end of the line she heard the sound of a busy street and not a small amount of screaming and shouting before the voice of an unknown man said: “Finally! Do you even know how many wrong numbers I went through? All of them! All of the wrong numbers, and I don’t have time for this! You need to help me!”

Kanaya frowned. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“It’s me!” the man shouted, as the noise near him ramped up. “Vriska!”

“Vriska is female,” Kanaya pointed out, her thumb shifting towards the end call button.

“I knoooooooow,” the man said, and despite the clear difference in his voice the intonation was so like Vriska’s that Kanaya hesitated. “For fuck’s sake, how dumb are you? Urgh, I can’t believe I’m relying on you to come save my ass!”

Slowly, Kanaya reached out and gripped the edge of the desk, staring down at her knuckles. “What, precisely, is going on here?”

The person on the other end of the line let out an impatient huff. “Puh-lease. I made that little yellowblood lovebird you live with drop a hive on his sleeping bitch girlfriend, you think I can’t have some lame lowblood junkie steal a cell and make a call for me? And before you get on my case about it, I don’t have a choice, because I’m trussed up like a fucking Earth turkey and if someone doesn’t come and help me out I’m _cooked.”_

“I see,” said Kanaya, swallowing a lump that was growing alarmingly fast in her throat. “Are there any other pertinent details I should know about the situation?”

“You mean apart from how it was trying to find some actually useful information for you that got me into this stupid mess?” Vriska huffed again. “It’s the Felt. Some guy called Kewe or Scratch turned up to talk to Snowman about this new drug everyone’s getting their panties in a twist over, and when he caught me eavesdropping he managed to knock me cold and drag me off out here.” Her voice paused, then went quiet. “Pretty sure the only reason I’m not dead is because he’s holding me hostage against Snowman. He paraded her through here earlier, and he keeps stopping by to check on me. Fucker’s creepier than Die.”

Kanaya’s fingers tensed, claws scraping dents into the tabletop. “I see. Is there anything else you can tell me about where you are?”

“A warehouse,” said Vriska. Behind her, Kanaya could hear a siren approaching. “I don’t know where, but I can smell the sea close, and they’ve been moving stuff in here all day.”

“That’s not much to go on,” said Kanaya, claws biting deeper.

“Well, duh, but it’s all I’ve got!” Vriska yelled. The siren in the background was blaring now. “Shit, I’ve got to go! You’d better come rescue me, Maryam, because you owe me big-time!”

The call cut off before Kanaya could reply. For a few long seconds she stared dumbly at her cellphone, then with a clatter she jumped out of her chair and took off running for the door, not caring that she had dropped her history book or left inch-long gouges in the table. She made it out of the lab and up the stairs in what had to be record time, shouting for Rose as she charged through the house.

She only realized how late it was when she made it upstairs to find all three humans opening their bedroom doors and peering out to see what was the cause of all the racket. The sight of Rose brought Kanaya up short. It was not that she hadn’t seen the human girl in her sleeping clothes before, but there was something different about the silky pajamas when they were rumpled. She had to quash the urge to run her claws through the messed tangle of hair that Rose was brushing out of her eyes, and the even more daring urge to kiss lips that were slightly parted after being so rudely awoken.

“I apologize,” she said, all but breathless and faintly blushing. Why it had to get harder by the day to resist drowning herself in Rose she did not know. “I didn’t consider that you would be resting, and this is urgent.”

“Think it fuckin’ better be,” said Dave, leaning against the door-frame of Sollux’s room. The shades on his face covered his eyes entirely, but his voice was cracked with exhaustion. “Major world catastrophe. This shit is getting hard on me; I gotta charge my battery, gotta rest, be the best, hit the sack and get some zest-“

An empty Mountain Dew bottle flew out of the room past Dave, slammed into the opposite wall of the corridor, and bounced along the floor before rolling to a stop. “THUT THE FUCK UP!” yelled Sollux.

Dave looked back around. “Fuck you, dude, you were playing Team Fortress until like five AM yesterday, sans headphones. No way are you shutting down my flow when I’ve got some seriously sick fires building.”

Kanaya stared wordlessly at the open doorway, from which snickering began to emerge.

“Kannie,” said Doctor Lalonde, drawing her attention back to the other end of the corridor. “What's the matter, cutie-pattytoot?”

Kanaya flushed again. “I just received a phone call from Vriska, by proxy of another person's body. She claims to be in grave danger, and I believe her.”

There was a clatter from the boys’ room and a moment later Sollux stormed out into the corridor, still dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing in the day. And for the three days previous, if Kanaya’s memory served. “I told you,” he hissed, sparks flickering across his skin. “I thaid thee wath trouble!”

“As a matter of fact, I believe it to be our request to her that proved troublesome,” said Kanaya, taking a step away from the furious psionic.

“Did she find out anything about Bro?” asked Dave, pushing off the door-frame. His face was still impassive, but his body was quivering with tension and Kanaya could smell his worry.

“She said that the Felt were responsible,” Kanaya told him. “For his arrest or for her current predicament I am not certain, but I strongly suspect both.”

Dave didn’t look any more comfortable, but Rose nodded. “That fits with what we had already ascertained, but hardly provides additional information.”

“Addition'l to what?” asked her mother, eyes narrowing blearily at the girl.

“No matter,” said Rose. “For now I am more concerned about Vriska. What is her situation?”

“She’th fine!” Sollux snapped. “Come on, KN, don’t tell me you bought her bullthit!”

Hesitantly Kanaya shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sollux, but I think that we should take Vriska’s request for help seriously. She claims to be being held captive by a man named Kewe or Scratch, in a warehouse near the sea. She was unable to provide more detail.”

“I’th a trap,” said Sollux, folding his arms. “Come on, it’th Vrithka! When hath thee ever been helpful? Or helpleth!”

“I dunno, dog, I got some pretty clear memories of her passing us a map that helped out when we were tryin’ to find Karkles and the wonder twins,” said Dave.

“And was she not instrumental in locating Aradia’s kidnappers?” Rose added, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip.

Doctor Lalonde nodded. “Yeah, we gotta take this shit serious, Sol honey. She could be in butt-loads of trouble!”

“But it’th a _trap!”_ Sollux protested.

Dave’s mouth twitched. “Sure thing, Admiral Ackbar. You want I should call in the Millennium Falcon on that?”

“AARGH!” A small bolt of psionic lightning jumped from the bridge of Sollux’s nose and earthed itself in the wall. “I’m going to find AA,” he said. “You can do what the fuck you want, but don’t come athking me for help when you land in the thit.”

“Sollux-“ Doctor Lalonde started, but he was already gone, stamping down the stairs loud enough to wake the whole house were they not already awake. Dave watched him go, then yawned theatrically.

“Well, kids, it’s been real,” he said. “But since there’s no news on Bro, I’mma get me some beauty sleep while he’s out making goo-goo eyes at Casper, make sure this swag stays primo quality.”

“Primo swag is important,” Doctor Lalonde agreed with a solemn nod of her head. “Love you, babbi.”

Dave hesitated, the door already half-closed, then looked at Rose and seemed to think better of whatever he had wanted to say. As soon as he was back in his room, Doctor Lalonde heaved a sigh. Then she seemed to perk up and rubbed her hands together.

“Oksie,” she said, beaming at the two of them. “Kanana, you did mega-good and I’m super proud of you. Now I’m gonna go call those smexy detectives Sacks and Fernando. Just be a fraction of a blink of a sec.”

As her mother walked back into her room, Rose took a few steps closer to Kanaya. The jade-blood’s skin tingled with the proximity as Rose leaned closer and, seemingly oblivious to the effect, said; “A thought occurs to me. May I borrow your phone?”

Nodding, Kanaya held out the slim device, and suppressed a gasp when Rose’s fingers brushed against her own. The human girl flashed her a fleeting smile, brief but warm, then turned her attention to the cellphone. To Kanaya’s puzzlement, she made a few selections then set it to her ear. Seeing her confusion Rose pressed a finger to her lips, then dropped it quickly and turned her attention back to the call. Kanaya could hear someone talking on the other end of the line; the voice was high-pitched, loud, and very fast.

“Hello, Miss Sanchez,” Rose said, after a few moments. “My name is Rose Lalonde. Correct me if I am wrong in this assumption, but there is a police officer nearby, is there not? Excellent. May I speak to him? Thank you kindly.”

There was another pause. This time Kanaya could hear a deeper, more masculine voice speaking.

“My name is Rose Lalonde,” said Rose again. “The phone I am calling from belongs to Miss Kanaya Maryam, also known as the Mediator- no, not that I am aware of. I simply used the redial function. No, we do not know him, but that is what I wanted to speak to you about.” She cleared her throat. “I am afraid that Miss Sanchez and- Lornan, I believe you said- are both victims in this. Yes, I understand that- officer, how familiar are you with psionics?” There was another pause as the distant police officer delivered his apparently fairly extensive knowledge. Kanaya watched as Rose’s eyebrows slid upwards, her lips pursing. “I see,” said Rose, after a while. “It seems you have had enough experience to know what I mean when I tell you that your suspect was acting under the direct control of a cool chroma Alternian by means of powerful mind-controlling psionics. Yes, I am quite certain. The young lady in question is an acquaintance of ours- not that I am aware of, no, but as she is currently being held captive by a dangerous criminal I can understand her desire to obtain assistance by any means necessary. Yes, my mother is contacting them as we speak.”

There was another lengthy pause, then Rose sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I see. Can you assure Miss Sanchez that my family will be happy to settle the matter out of court for a lump sum, and if she is still not satisfied- in fact, even if she is, advise Mr Lornan that we will be providing his lawyer and that he is to say nothing until that lawyer arrives.” The police officer said something else, and Rose’s frown deepened. “Yes, I can understand that- I suggest you contact your captain. My mother has had plenty of time to make an impression by now, and he should be able to corroborate the account I have provided you.” Another pause, and suddenly Rose’s face split into a smile. “Yes, officer, _those_ Lalondes. Well, I will have to check with the owner of the cellphone on that.” Pulling the device away from her ear, she looked at Kanaya and raised an eyebrow. “The officer would like to know if he can call us back on this number after verifying my claims to be an obscenely wealthy celebrity.”

Kanaya nodded. “I do not see any problem with that.”

“Did you hear that?” Rose asked, putting the cellphone back to her ear. “Good. Oh- did he? Yes, I can see how that might be inconvenient. Hmm. I will see if there is any funding available to sponsor him through a rehabilitation program. In the meantime, I agree, he probably would be safer in a holding cell, and I’m sure Miss Sanchez will appreciate it. Thank you very much for your time, Officer Ferdinand. It was a pleasure speaking to you.”

Rose let out a small sigh as she hung up the call and passed the cellphone back to Kanaya. “Mother!” she called. “You will need to authorize some funds for legal costs soon! Shall I itemize the expenses for you?”

Doctor Lalonde’s voice drifted back through the door of her bedroom. “’S okies, don’t even sweat it!” she shouted. “I’m totes paying for your legal shenanigans!”

Rose sighed. “Damn the woman.”

Kanaya fidgeted, not certain of what to do. “Do you wish to join me downstairs?” she asked, and immediately kicked herself. “No, that is ridiculous. You were sleeping before; I should leave you to get some rest.” She backed away towards the stairs. “Thank you for your kind assistance. It would never have occurred to me to redial the phone Vriska used…”

Her words trailed off as she stared down at Rose’s hand, wrapped around her own. Swallowing questions, she looked up into a pair of eyes that, although alien, had become intimately familiar to her. For the longest second of Kanaya’s life, she waited, and yet when Rose leaned in she was too shocked too move. Lips pressed against hers, not silken-soft as she had been expecting but malleable nonetheless, and breathing became suddenly difficult as another cartilage nub pressed against her own. It was a strange sensation, slimy and rubbery and not at all how Kanaya had imagined it, and after a few seconds Rose stepped away.

“I’m sorry,” said Rose, blush rising on her cheeks. “I thought-“

With a small growl, Kanaya grabbed her face and pulled it back in for another kiss. This time she was a more active participant; it was still slimy, but the movement of her own lips made the whole thing considerably more enjoyable, and when their teeth clacked together unpleasantly they pulled back at the same moment, panting and grinning. Before Kanaya could catch her breath Rose pushed forward again, and this time her teeth grabbed Kanaya’s lower lip. Gentle, blunt-edged pressure tugged at her mouth and shot straight to her lower thorax; Kanaya purred, her nose and mouth full of the sweet, hot taste of Rose’s breath, Rose’s saliva, Rose’s kiss. She let one of her hands slide down Rose’s neck to her body, tracing the contours of her shoulder and her hip, and felt her innards start to sizzle warmly as the human girl gasped and pressed closer to her. There were fingers running up her back and along the outer edge of her ear, and her skin was aching with the need for a firmer, warmer, closer touch.

The sound of a door creaking hit like a tub of icy water; Kanaya and Rose jumped apart, but too late to fool Doctor Lalonde, who was standing just inside her room and chuckling.

“Ho nono,” she said, waggling a finger at them. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Mother!” Rose squeaked, turning bright pink. “We were just, uh-“

“Getting’ your hawt mack on?” Doctor Lalonde wiggled her eyebrows. “’S no problem, sweetie.” She strolled over and grabbed Kanaya, who was still frozen stiff in shock, into a clumsy hug. “Conragulations, babbu! I knew she’d come around! Now, I’ll get you two loverbirdies some literature on safe interspecies sex. Oh, and some lesbian porn!” She paused and looked thoughtful. “I mean, pron _for_ lesbians, not porn _with_ lesbisans.”

_“Mother!”_

Kanaya looked over at Rose; her face was almost entirely covered by her hands, and peeking out from between her fingers were hints of an utterly horrified expression. Doctor Lalonde chuckled and ruffled her daughter’s hair, stooping down and pressing a small kiss to her forehead.

“You girls be careful,” she said, pulling back. She glanced over at Kanaya and the troll was surprised to see her eyes glittering with something wet. “I gots to go meet up wit the Detectives. Don’t you worry, we’ll figure out this Vriska business, expecially now we know it’s the Felt.” She pressed another kiss onto Rose, and her free arm snaked out to pull Kanaya closer. The troll girl felt oddly gratified when a pair of firm lips were planted on her forehead; the affection should have seemed pale, but was instead comfortably lusal.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” said Doctor Lalonde with a wink. Releasing them both, she took a step towards the stairs. Rose groaned and lowered her hands.

“Mother, you’re not dressed,” she said. Ignoring her long-suffering tones, Doctor Lalonde looked down at her night-gown and giggled.

“Oops!” she said. “Honestly, Rosie, what would I do without you!?”

“If only,” Rose muttered, stepping aside to let her mother dash back into her room. The door closed behind the human woman with a click, leaving the two of them alone again in the hallway. Kanaya shifted her feet and took a sudden deep interest in the carpet; across the way, she could see Rose doing likewise.

“So,” she ventured, after she had exhausted the possibilities afforded to her by a study of thread count. “Does this mean- are we…?”

“A thing?” Rose finished, raising her head to give Kanaya the most charmingly shy smile she had ever witnessed. This was the other side of Rose, and one she loved as deeply as any other; the side that loved Squiddles and knitted adorable plush Cthulus and wrote convoluted wizardly prose because it was simpler than anything the outside world had to offer. “I believe so. If you want us to be.”

“I want. Us to be a thing, that is.” Kanaya paused, rubbing at the slightly chipped nail varnish on her claws. It was wrong, it was all wrong, she should be perfect for Rose and there should be flower petals and a full moon and candlelight. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to care in the slightest.

“Do you want to join me in my room?” Rose asked, almost tripping over the words in her haste to get them out and turning the same florescent pink she had when her mother had interrupted. “Not that I wish to be forward or push you into something you would be uncomfortable with; I would prefer to take this slowly.”

Kanaya’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I think I should like that very much,” she said. “And I understand the need to go slow. If nothing else, we should wait for your mother’s helpful literature.”

Rose groaned, burying her face in her hands. Kanaya chuckled and was about to reassure her when the door to Sollux’s room creaked open and Dave poked his head out.

“Just so you know,” he said, his voice cracked with tiredness. “If I have to hear my sister having nubile lesbian makeouts in the room next to mine, I will run away and join the alien rap circus. You will have to come and reclaim me from the space juggalos as I mourn the eternal loss of my formally glorious boner.”

The door closed again before either girl could reply. They both stared at it wordlessly for a moment, then burst into laughter. Leaning on one another, they made their way into Rose’s room, where to their mutual embarrassment and delight they began their nefarious scheme to drive Dave into the tender, pie-bearing arms of whatever clown brethren he could find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD I WAS TWO DAYS LATE I AM SO SORRY I FORGOT!!!
> 
> If I am ever late to update and have given no notice of this fact, you can drop me a message [here](http://celynbrum.tumblr.com/ask). Chances are that either my computer asplode, my internet asplode, or I completely forgot.
> 
> **Next update _will_ be Saturday 26th June.**
> 
> So! After repeated hinting at it, Rosemary finally happened! I am very happy about that. I love these two awkward wordy teens together, they're adorable. :D And although it may not seem that way, a few more of my plot threads weave together...
> 
> Kanaya's favourite Earth musics seemed quite plain to me, given her love of Rainbow Drinkers. She's a troll goth, and there's enough read-across that I can definitely see her liking music such as [ Take My Hunger (Inkubus Sukkubus)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oesz6G2ZEmU), [Marian (Sisters of Mercy)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=te7VP_uIkpw), and [Bloodline (The Cruxshadows)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DI0vWH4t_SA).


	17. ==> Be The Kid At The Crossroads

### CHAPTER SIXTEEN ==> Be The Kid At The Crossroads

John Egbert was supposed to be grounded, at home, in his room, working on the stacks of homework that had been building up untouched for weeks. It was virtually guaranteed that if his Dad had known he was out at all, let alone who he was with or what he was doing, ‘proud’ would be the last word to come to his mind. Disappointed, maybe. Ashamed, possibly. But not proud.

Not that John cared about that stuff. There had been a time when his Dad’s approval had felt like the greatest thing in the world, but he was hardly a little kid any more. And why should he care anyway? It wasn’t like his Dad was ever around; as soon as the adoption for Karkat and Gamzee was finalized he’d vanished off back to work, and John was sure he was spending more time at the office, not less. Which he totally didn’t feel bad about because it wasn’t like Mr. Egbert was his real father. They didn’t owe one another anything.

Pushing back a flitting memory of who his real father actually was, John admitted to himself that okay, maybe he did feel slightly guilty. But it was hard to feel too bad about anything for long when Haley leaned in for another kiss, her hands gripping his t-shirt and her thighs pressing maddeningly against his. John kissed back with gusto. When they’d first started making out he’d been a complete novice and had kind of slobbered on Haley in a totally gross and not at all sexy way, but there had been plenty of opportunities to practice since then and now he thought he might even be almost as good as she was. Sloppy make-outs with Haley were definitely becoming one of his favorite hobbies, even if it meant sneaking out late at night or early in the morning.

Space was tight in the back seat of her truck, but neither of them minded. John groaned as her lips moved across his jawline and trailed down his neck, lingering on his Adam’s apple and nuzzling at the edges of his neckline. In response he ran one of his hands down her spine, fingers caressing right down to the end of her tailbone before grabbing a sudden handful of her butt.

Haley squeaked and squirmed a little on his lap, which more than made up for the sudden lack of lips on his neck. John smirked as he checked a mental notch into his prankster’s gambit. He failed utterly to resist when Haley grabbed both of his hands and pinned them down by his sides, before pushing herself closer and ravaging his mouth with deep, heartfelt smooches.

The effect was spoiled somewhat a moment later, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. The Ghostbusters theme filled the back of the van with its jaunty air.

“Ignore it,” Haley muttered, her words sliding between his lips and into his mouth. John made an “mhm” of agreement and leaned forward to capture her in another kiss, resolutely ignoring the ring tone until it cut out.

A moment later, it started up again. John groaned and pulled away; Haley scowled but slid off his lap to let him fish it out of his pocket. _Get rid of them,_ she mouthed, and John nodded, glancing at the caller ID- great, it was Karkat, just who he didn’t want to talk to- before answering the call with a chirpy grin.

"Hi, you’ve reached John’s answerphone!” he said brightly, and Haley covered her mouth to muffle a snort of laughter.

 _“Dude, not now, yeah?”_ said a male voice that was definitely not Karkat. _“Look, I know we don’t really know each other that well, but this is like, a real emergency. You gotta come down to Eddie’s Bar and Grill, preferably fuckin’ yesterday. You know where that is?”_

John pushed himself into a straighter sitting position, flapping his hand in response to Haley’s quizzical look. “No offense or anything, but who is this, how come you have Karkat’s phone, and why are you using it to get me to some Grill place?”

The person on the other end of the phone let out a small sigh. _“Right, sorry man. This is Cody. I’ve got Karkat’s phone ‘cause I took it off him to call someone who could help. I, like, just found out from Jen that Gamz is in some serious whacked-out shit and now I can’t reach either of them. I figured Karkat could help because of that whole moirails thing but dude, the guy is seriously fucked up right now.”_ The sound of someone yelling incoherently came down the line, followed by Cody saying: _“No way, dude, don’t even try that bullshit- you think I give a fuck about your claws? Man, you should fucking see the scratches Gamz leaves on me. Back the hell off.”_ To John, he said; _“So, yeah, dude, they’re your bros, right? You gotta come down here.”_

John chewed on his lip and glanced over at Haley, who was looking more and more put out by the second. “Um, I’ll get back to you on that, okay?” he said, and hung up the call before Cody could reply.

“So what was all that about?” asked Haley, swinging her leg back over his lap and settling down with a sway of her hips that made John gulp.

"Uhh,” he said, brain stalling as it tried to shift between gears. “That was- it- Cody.” He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Cody says Karkat and Gamzee are in trouble or something, and he wants me to go to some Bar and Grill place.”

Haley nuzzled at his cheek. “Hey, they’re the big bad aliens, right?” she said, her breath tickling the small hairs on John’s neck. “Cody’s probably over-reacting. I knew a girl who used to date him and Jenna and she says he freaks out about stuff all the time.”

John felt the tight knot of panic in his chest unwind a little. “Yeah?” he asked, turning his head so he could kiss her earlobe. He liked the little gasp she made and also it was a chance to surreptitiously sniff her hair, which smelled like apples and cinnamon. Even baking didn't seem so bad on her.

“Yeah,” said Haley, rocking into him so she was pressed right up against his chest. John closed his eyes and nibbled his lower lip. “Nothing to worry about.”

John nodded in silent agreement and started to ghost one of his hands across her hip and upwards, kissing and nibbling and panting into her mouth and neck and shoulder. His fingers had just brushed against the outer edge of a boob- which drew another really, really nice gasp from her- when the Ghostbusters theme broke into their increasingly heated makeout. John groaned and slumped, and Haley’s forehead dropped onto his neck.

Grabbing the cellphone off the seat where he had dropped it, John didn’t bother looking at the caller. He pressed the answer button and had squeaked out a “Yeah?” before the cell was even all the way to his ear.

_“John! Thank goodness!”_

John jerked upright and Haley yelped in protest, grabbing his shoulders to stop herself from falling off his lap. “Callie?” he said, too confused to be upset at the interruption.

_“John, I just had a truly alarming call from Cody! I’m headed to Eddie’s Grill now but it is utterly imperative that you meet us there!”_

John sighed. “No, it’s fine! Haley says Cody’s kind of a worrywart, so it’s probably nothing- hey, wait a minute!” He snickered. “Karkat has your number saved in his phone?”

 _“It’s not nothing,”_ said Callie, sounding no less worried than she had before his assurance. _“Haley’s there with you, isn’t she? Then tell her that according to Cody, Gamzee’s been ensnared by King. See what she has to say about that!”_

"Okay,” said John, even more puzzled now. “Haley, Callie says to tell you that Cody says that Gamzee’s been- ensnared? Ensnared, right, by King.”

Haley froze in place on his lap, eyes widening in shock. “Oh, shit,” she said, and worried at her bottom lip. “Yeah, that’s seriously fucking bad.”

“Why?” asked John, feeling the alarm knotting up in him again. “Who’s King? Why’s he ensnaring Gamzee? How come everyone except me seems to know about him?”

 _“He was a friend of my brother’s,”_ said Callie, at the same moment as Haley said: “Pretty much everyone hears about him if they’re not a total dork, John, even if it’s just the whole keep-the-fuck-away part.”

"But who is he?” John asked, frustrated.

 _“He’s a drug dealer,”_ said Callie, her voice wavering.

"He’s bad fucking news,” said Haley, shifting her weight off John and slumping back on the seat. “Dunno how many of the rumors are true, but I’ve seen what happens to people who get in deep with him. The _lucky_ ones go to jail; he uses people, all the fucking time, makes them need him then throws them under a fucking bus to get what he wants.”

It felt like the bottom was dropping out of John’s stomach. His thoughts wheeled, his mouth tasted bitter, and he had to blink to banish the impression of deep shadows closing in on him.

_Baby bear… baby bear…_

Gamzee had come for them, back then. Karkat had been brave and kept fighting and Gamzee had found them, had fought off John’s monsters and his own, and John’s head was ringing like a bell from just how fucking stupid he had been to stay mad at them over some stupid dumb kissing stuff when they were brothers in all the ways that counted. Cellphone still gripped in one hand, he started scrambling into the driver’s seat.

“What the hell!” yelled Haley, grabbing at the back of his shirt and losing her grip straight away when he pulled forwards. “What the fuck are you doing? Didn’t you just hear me say King is dangerous?”

"Yeah, I heard,” said John, dropping into the seat and scrabbling around for the keys. “That’s why I’ve got to go! Callie, how do I get there? To where Karkat is, I mean.”

Callie started to give him directions over the phone and he found the keys in the footwell, kicked there earlier when neither he nor Haley had given a fuck where they ended up. He jammed them awkwardly into the ignition and started the engine just as his girlfriend hauled herself over the passenger seat and dropped into it, staring at him in a mixture of anger and fear.

“John, this isn’t fucking funny,” she said, as he pulled out of the secluded spot they had chosen for making out in. “This isn’t like busting into Crockercorp or some kiddie shit like that; King doesn’t care about the law or if you’re a kid or anything-“

“I don’t care,” John growled, only feeling slightly guilty when Haley went pale and flinched away from him. She shouldn’t be trying to stop him, not when he had people to help…

 _“John, are you quite okay?”_ asked Callie. She sounded a little nervous herself; John shivered like had been dunked in ice, and glanced back over at his girlfriend. Haley was curled up on the passenger seat, pulled away from him, eyes tracking his movements in suspicious little darts of focus. John’s stomach clenched again, and there was nothing even slightly pleasant about the feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, both to Haley and to Callie over the phone. It wasn’t enough, not nearly and he knew it. “I didn’t mean to- I don’t like to go like that.” He fixed his attention on the road, refusing to glance over and see Haley’s expression. “I have a therapist,” he added, half to the two girls and half to the part of himself that was wondering whether his birth father had ever scared his mother that way, whether she’d had to see him lose more and more of himself to ugly black moods until one day he became the enemy.

“Cool,” said Haley, quietly. He risked another glance around and saw her unfolding, relaxing; she gave him a small smile and he returned it, but not with feeling. Inside, he was still churning with guilt and near-panic.

It was different for Jade. She’d been frightened at the time and when they talked about their kidnapping John had learned she still slept badly, but whatever they had seen when they were toddlers hadn’t left as deep a scar on her as it had on him. Meeting the Ringmaster, finding out who he was and being his prisoner and fighting him, had dug into that old wound and opened it. Now something ugly that John didn’t want to think about was slowly oozing out. He’d never explained to any of his friends why he was so comfortable around Gamzee, even though he was still unnerved by anything else clown-related. He didn’t know how to explain that being around someone with a monster inside made him feel safer, like he could keep his own under control if it ever emerged, like there was someone nearby to stop him if he couldn't- and he was sure that was kind of icky by troll standards, given that Gamzee was Karkat's moirail, but he was human and he couldn't help it.

When he’d told his therapist, she’d said that he didn’t seem any more angry or vicious than any other teenage boy, and would he like to talk about why he felt as if he were? John had declined the offer. She didn’t believe him but he could feel the monster, spreading through him like ink in water. It scared him more than any of his nightmares.

 _“You know you can come to me with anything, right?”_ said Callie, her voice gentle like she was talking to a shy animal. Then she chuckled. _“And if you don’t, then I’d still like to hang out with you sometime. I hardly even see you anymore!”_

That sent a genuine smile to tug at John’s lips. “Yeah, that would be cool,” he agreed. “I miss you too! Uh- which way now?”

On Callie’s directions he drove out towards the edge of town, away from the neatly-trimmed suburbs and gleaming commercial district out to where weeds poked up from between paving slabs and the air seemed as gray as the small houses and grim industrial lots all around. Eddie’s Bar and Grill (Sunday Steak Special $25!) was closed up and dead when they pulled into the parking lot- well of course it was, it was hardly even morning yet. The general desertion made it easy to spot the small cluster of figures huddled over by the dumpsters, and John swung into a parking space near Callie’s compact green car and jumped out with Haley close behind him.

Karkat was sitting curled up in a little ball between Cody and Callie, who were crouched down on either side of him. He looked up at the sound of people approaching and John stopped dead at the sight of his face. A swollen, bloody lip was the dominant feature, although from the dried blood caked around his nose Karkat had been hit pretty hard there, too. His eyes were red-tinted and underlined with dark bags, and there was something nameless caked in Karkat’s hair that was making it form bedraggled spikes around his face.

The last time John had seen him looking that shitty, Karkat had been half-starved, chained to a wall, and stabbed in the gut. From the laser-focused glare he was getting, Karkat knew it just as well as he did.

“What happened?” he asked, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. Karkat’s glare deepened; Cody rocked to his feet and went to meet John.

"He won’t say, man,” said the older boy, keeping his voice low but casting a concerned glance back in Karkat’s direction. “I mean, he said a few things about Past Him being a grubfucking idiot and that it don’t matter what he does, and he told me to go fuck myself in like, a dozen different ways, but nothing direct.”

"I can fucking hear you over there,” Karkat called, punctuating the words with a snarl. “At no point tonight were my eardrums punctured, although I’m fairly sure the asshole turning my head into chunky grubsauce tried. If you want to talk about me, do it to my face instead of sneaking off a few paces like a pair of wigglers trying to hide contraband from their lusus. It’s fucking pathetic and I’m not going to humor it.”

"What’s pathetic is you got your ass kicked and you’re too chicken to talk about it,” said Haley. Karkat bristled, and John made a hasty shushing gesture to his girlfriend before walking over and crouching down in front of Karkat. Up close, the glare was even more intense, like staring into red-hot embers. Embers from hell.

John spent a brief moment patting himself on the back for coming up with such a sweet metaphor; he would totally have to tell Dave about it later. Then he turned his attention back to Karkat.

“Hey, buddy,” he said.

"Fuck you,” Karkat spat, but behind that he sounded more tired than anything. John ignored the flutter of worry in his belly and grinned at the alien boy.

"Sorry, Karkat, but I’m not into guys that way,” he said. “Plus you’re my brother, so I’m pretty sure that would be all gross and illegal anyway!”

The response was some spluttered Alternian, which knowing Karkat was probably obscene. John waited patiently until his friend switched back to English to say: “What do you want, Egbert? If you’re here to try and talk me into rescuing that incompetent assclown then you can just fuck off, assuming you’ve finally learned how to coordinate your amblepods, and leave me to wallow in my own self-loathing in peace.”

“Nuh-uh!” said John, shaking his head firmly. “No can do, buddy. From what I hear Gamzee’s in real trouble, and even if he hadn’t basically saved our lives that one time, he’s our brother and I know you care about him really, just like he cares about you!”

“He saved your lives?” asked Callie, her voice rising into a little squeak. Cody and Haley both looked shocked, but John ignored them. He could explain LA later. Much later. Like maybe in his will to be read after he died, later.

Karkat wasn’t paying any attention to their audience. He leaned forward towards John, teeth bared and eyes glinting. “Gamzee doesn’t give a shit about me,” he said, every word clipped and precise. “Gamzee dumped my ass as soon as he found someone else- someones else- to pay attention to him and cater to his whimsical clownish claptrap. Gamzee fucking- he said he pitied me, he said we were forever, he said he fucking needed me, and I guess he was right about that last one because hey, guess what, as soon as he stopped fucking needing me he left!” Red tears welled up and started spilling down his cheeks. John pulled back, startled, but two clawed hands hooked into his t-shirt and dragged him closer. “Two sweeps,” Karkat said, his voice cracking around grief and fury. “Two fucking sweeps I followed him around like a good little barkbeast and pacified his ass. I lied for him on the ship! I let that asshole they put us with beat me to shit so he’d leave Gamzee alone! I broke the law for him, I stole for him and I begged for him and I fucking gave up _everything_ and he- he never even fucking cared, I was like the grubshitting sopor to him, just a way to keep his half-rotted thinkpan together. Only he didn’t want to give up the sopor and I- I don’t know what’s left anymore, because I’m just a mutant piece of shit on the wrong planet and I don’t know where I _fit,_ I don’t know where I’m meant to go…”

He was crying in earnest now, face buried in John’s chest, shoulders shaking. John patted at them awkwardly, not sure what else to do, and was surprised when his hand was joined by another, slim and pale and stained with ink.

“You know,” said Callie, her voice gentle but not even slightly hesitant. “Once, when I was feeling lost and upset, someone unusually smart told me that my life was my own, and I shouldn’t let anyone but myself decide what I ought to do with it.”

Karkat’s head lifted away from John’s now-sodden shirt. Seeing him staring at her, Callie reached out and cupped his face with her hand, smearing a tear-track with her thumb.

“I don’t know about this whole mutant thing,” she said, gifting him with that totally genuine smile that had first made John think she would be an awesome best friend and cohort, way back in kindergarten. “And I really don’t know about all those things you said you’ve been through, although they sound truly awful!” Her thumb rubbed at his cheek again. “But I’ve been friends with you for a while now, and I would definitely say that I know you, and you are wonderful, Karkat. You’re funny and you’re passionate and you care about people so much that it hurts you sometimes, and you’re brave and you’re smart and everything you do you want to be the best at.” She shuffled forwards and caught one of Karkat’s hands as it unraveled from John’s shirt. “And you’ll fit wherever you want to fit because you’ll shape the world around you, I know you will. But for the moment you fit right here with us, your friends, because we can see just what a superb person you really are and we know that you’re upset, and that’s utterly reasonable, but we don’t want you to give up or get hurt because of it.”

John shifted back as Karkat turned and let himself be pulled into a tight hug, Callie’s arms holding him close while he gripped onto her and sobbed quietly into her shoulder. John was sort of aware that if this was a movie then there would be some deeply moving song playing in the background and that everyone in the theater would be sniffling, but in reality it was actually kind of awkward and his leg was starting to go numb from crouching. He stood up and walked over to Haley, wincing at the pins and needles, and gave her a hug because she looked even more uncomfortable than he felt.

Haley returned the hug but pulled back a moment later, still looking uncertain. “What was all that shit about?” she whispered, hands resting on his shoulders. “About Gamzee saving your life, and the other stuff? Karkat’s a total wet blanket, when did he break the law or steal anything?”

John chewed on his lip and couldn’t quite meet her gaze. “That’s, uh, kind of a really long story,” he said, scratching at the nape of his neck. “And it’s not all really mine.” Seeing her eyes narrow, he added. “It was in LA, and a lot of really bad stuff happened, and you remember I said I’m seeing a therapist?”

Slowly, Haley nodded. “Not now, huh?”

“Not now,” John agreed, with a small sigh of relief. He looked around to see that Karkat and Callie had disentangled from one another, and Callie was helping him up to his feet. Karkat looked better, John thought; he was still tired and beat-up, but he didn’t have that awful defeated air to him any more.

“Okay,” said Karkat, his voice rough from crying. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what the hell is going on with that tentsquatting clownhumping _former_ moirail of mine?”

Everyone turned to Cody, who nodded. “He’s in serious fucking trouble, man,” he said to Karkat. “I know you ain’t never liked me and Jenna being with him, but we’ve tried to do right by him. Only lately, he’s been kind of off. Like, even before he split with you, the dude was acting strange, and it was setting off all kinds of warning bells, you know? I mean, I’ve known people who went all shifty and secretive like that before, and it ain’t never ended well.” He scratched at his arm and shrugged. “We were tryin’ to get him to talk about it or some shit, but you know what Gamz is like. Never met a problem he couldn’t avoid or hide from, I reckon.”

“Oh, he has,” growled Karkat. “But then he just sits there and plays with imaginary fucking fluttertrolls and special stardust and lets everyone else clean up the mess.”

"Yeah, well, at first we wanted him to talk to us, or to you, you dig me? But he kept evading and we kinda gave up after a while.” Cody sighed. “Stupid, really. Should’ve known it was bad when he broke up with you.”

“Why? Because he didn’t need me, or because his shit was all on you now?” Karkat snapped.

Cody shook his head. “No, dude. Because he fucking adores you, man. Pushing away the people who give a shit is a real dangerous sign.”

Karkat fell silent, and Cody nodded. “So anyway, a few days ago he kinda freaked out on Jenna, and when I went to check on him he’d been puking his guts out. We got in a fight and he went off alone. I mean, I was worried and shit at the time but Jenna found out today, that shithead Brandon only went and fucking took him to meet King.” He scowled. “Next time I see that douchebag I’m punching his fucking teeth out. He knows King ain’t cool, we all do, and if he’s lucky I’m gonna catch him before Jenna does because she is seriously fucking pissed off, man. Only I can’t reach her either, and I think there’s a real fuckin’ good chance she’s gone there to try and get him back, man, and I’m kinda freaking the fuck out for both of them right now so if you could help a guy out…”

Karkat raised a hand to pause Cody. “Okay, I get it. Gamzee’s been acting like a complete grubfucking idiot and now he’s with some human you don’t trust, Jenna’s flipping her shit even more than you are and might have gone marching up to challenge the cullsquad for him, and your friends are all unremitting assholes which I suppose explains why you were dating that painthuffing bulgebrain in the first place. Anything else you’d like to add?”

Cody scratched his chin, then nodded. “Yeah, actually. I dunno how important those pills he takes are, but either he ain’t been taking them for a while or he’s been throwing them up right after, because he’s been getting seriously weird about them.”

John knew that Gamzee’s medication was serious business, but even he was shocked by how fast the blood drained from Karkat’s face.

“Shit,” said the troll boy. He looked around at the vehicles in the parking lot and glowered. “Okay, which one of these rust-heaps are we taking?”

"Wait, you want to go now?” asked Haley, sounding horrified. “Come on! This is King we’re talking about. Can’t we just call the cops or something?”

Karkat whirled and fixed her with a glare. “I am going to explain this once, because I know that none of you are actually aware of what the fuck is going on and I don’t want to die because of your ignorance.” He took a deep breath. “Gamzee is _shithive insane._ And I don’t just mean by your coddling human standards, or even by my more permissive Alternian ones, no, he’s considered a complete panscrambled lunatic by the measures of his own hemocaste. For those who haven’t been paying attention, that would be the hemocaste that worship a pair of mythical murderclowns and regularly get confused as to the fine distinction between genocide and fingerpainting!”

Cody swallowed. “That sounds pretty hairy, dude.”

“As hairy as an untrimmed woolbeast, but whatever happens, I like my chances better than the cops.” Karkat agreed, meeting all of their frightened and uncertain gazes and finally settling on John. “Look, I’m going to be taking most of the risks here, and if we’re lucky Gamzee has been his usual idiot self and is currently dosed to the non-existent gills on enough sopor to kill a small trunkbeast, in which case all we have to do is drag his ass out of there, check Jenna’s in one piece, and sit on him until he sobers up.”

“And if we are unlucky?” asked Callie quietly. Karkat’s lips tightened.

"If we’re unlucky, then we’re about to go off in search of a super-strong, psychic, omnicidal maniac with no meds, no moirail, and a holy mission from his deranged carnage gods to slaughter- and I quote directly here- ‘every last motherfucker what’s got breath up in their body’. And according to what you say, he’s currently in close proximity to one of humanity’s finer efforts in producing complete pieces of shit masquerading as sophonts. So if anyone wants to piss their pants and cry like an unpupated larvae, now would be the time.”

Haley’s hand tightened in John’s and he squeezed back, offering wordless reassurance. His other hand dipped into his pocket, fingers brushing against cold metal. The keys jangled in the silence as he drew them out, glinting in the early-morning sun.

“I’ll drive,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Sunday 3rd August, or bust!
> 
> The cost of food in other times and places is hereby filed under “things that are surprisingly hard to find out”. Hope I guessed right, 'cos damn was research confusing!
> 
> DRAMA! ACTION! MURDERCLOWNS! This was the sixteenth chapter, the point at which the fic starts picking up steam big-time (because now we are onto repeat characters for chapters!) and now that the peril is mostly in place, the running around can begin.
> 
> Music for John is obviously gonna be piano music, given that it's his instrument. And given how Homestuck (and previously Problem Sleuth) tend to roll, I'mma go with [ragtime](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCToGv-lO7c) and [jazz piano](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMmeNsmQaFw) for young Master Egbert!


	18. ==> Be The Queen On The Frontline

### CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ==> Be The Queen On The Frontline

Feferi Peixes stomped along the beach, fuming a little more with each footprint that she left in the sand. Behind her, Jade and Jane struggled to keep up, wrapped in thick layers of clothing against the biting sea wind. Feferi hardly noticed the chill; her eyes scanned the ocean as if it had personally offended her.

“ERIDAN!” she screamed, her voice echoing across the water. “ERIDAN! YOU HAD BETTA SHOW YOUR FRONDS RIGHT NOW OR THERE WILL BE TROUBUBBLE!”

“Maybe we should head back to the house?” suggested Jane, one eye on Bec as he loped off up the beach in doggy delight. “It would be a real bother if we came out here looking for him and he managed to slip right past us.”

“If he gets back to the house, he can call us,” said Feferi, still glaring at the sea. “I can’t believe him! He knows we’re supposed to be going to the Charity Gala with Ms Crocker today!”

“You don’t suppose something’s happened to him?” said Jade, casting an anxious glance of her own out over the water. “It’s not like him to miss something important.”

Jane gasped. “Oh, no! What if he was attacked by a shark?”

“I don’t think a shark would attack him,” said Jade. “They don’t usually bite human-shaped things.”

“And Eridan would win a fight with an Earth shark anyway,” Feferi agreed. “No, he’s out there, he’s just being A STUBBORN HAMMERHEAD!”

Her words were echoed by a bark from further up the beach; all three girls looked around at the white speck of Bec in the middle distance and he barked again.

“He’s found something,” said Jade, and broke into a run. Feferi chased after her, easily keeping pace with the human. Her eyes weren’t quite so good on land as they were underwater, and she saw the gray bundle beside Bec at about the same time as Jade. Her vascular pump froze in her chest and she put on an extra burst of speed, hoping to be wrong. She wasn’t.

“Eridan!” yelled Jade, dropping to her knees on the violet-stained sand next to the still form of Feferi’s oldest companion. “Oh, my god!”

Feferi covered her mouth in horror, trying to force herself to understand what she was seeing. Eridan was always full of life; speaking with his hands, pacing the floor- even at his laziest and floppiest, his face moved like there was a storm behind it, driving it onward. This thing, this body, was small and empty and covered in terrible purple holes, and _it wasn’t him._

“Feferi!” Jade was shouting, her hand resting over Eridan's awful, still abdomen. “Fef, snap out of it! I can feel a pulse, but I don't think we have much time!”

Beside her, Jane was already speaking into her cellphone. “Yes, we need an ambulance, and probably the police as well,” she was saying. “And you should tell the nearest hospital to contact someone in LA and find out as much as they can about treating injured Alternians… it looks like gunshots, I think… no, I don’t know what happened! Well, I should be surprised if he doesn’t, but if that’s the case then I can assure you Crockercorp will meet the costs… yes, that Crockercorp. I’m the heiress.”

Feferi snorted with laughter which caught in her throat and became a wet, bubbling sob. A hand wrapped around her wrist and she snarled, yanking it back before she noticed the look Jade was giving her.

“Fef, I think we have to move him,” she said.

“No, the dispatch lady said not to,” said Jane, pulling the cell away from her ear.

“Look at his gills,” said Jade. Feferi did, and immediately saw what Jade meant. Eridan was half in the water and every one of the gills below the water-line was fully flared, gasping at the ebb and flow of the tide and struggling too hard to catch the foam. Feferi’s gaze was drawn again to the bloody purple ruin of his thorax, and like a breaking wave it hit her that the reason he was so still was that _he wasn’t breathing._

“I’ll kelp lift from the legs if you coral hold his spine steady,” she said, because first aid was one of the many things Grandpa had made certain that she learned. Jade nodded and scooted over to his head, sliding her hands under his neck and shoulders while Feferi waded out into the water.

“Oh, bother it,” said Jane, and dropped her phone onto the sand. The waves lapped at her ankles and soaked through her trousers as she settled herself along Eridan’s middle, slipping her hands in under his back. “Everyone ready?”

Jade and Feferi both nodded. “On three,” said Jade. “One, two, _three!”_

Feferi lifted slowly, concentrating on keeping her movements smoothly aligned with the other two despite the fluttering panic she felt when Eridan’s gills left the water and snapped closed. As fast as she could without jarring him she stepped backwards, until the three of them could lower him again into water deep enough to cover his gills but shallow enough for him to be securely resting on the sandy bottom.

“This is so weird,” said Jade, looking at the nearly-submerged Eridan. “I feel like he should be drowning, with his mouth and nose in the water like that.”

“He’s breathing betta,” Feferi said, scooting up to his head so that she could check on his face. Purple blood drifted away in the water and she let out a distressed glub at the hole that was revealed in his forehead. “Oh, _no!”_

Jane leaned over to see the cause of her distress, and sucked in a sharp breath. “He’s still alive and breathing, sort of,” she said, a little faintly. “I’m sure he’s- well, that’s a good sign, at any rate.”

Beside her Bec whimpered, and Feferi thought she agreed with the dog more. She crouched in the ocean beside Eridan, not caring that her clothes were soaking through, and tried not to panic. Ever since she had been a wiggler, he had been there beside her; he was the one who had saved her from the Condesce’s assassins, who had helped her realize that she had to flee Alternia, who had killed her lusus on her order. Even after their moirallegiance had ended he had been there, a constant presence in her life. She didn’t have to hate or pity him to be terrified of losing that.

“Don’t die,” she whispered to him, the soft Alternian words swallowed by the roar of the ocean and the wind. “That’s an order, do you koimprehend that? You are to get betta and wake up and be _fin,_ becod I told you to!”

She lost track of the time she spent sitting on the beach; it felt like days, but must only have been minutes before the loud wail of sirens heralded the arrival of an ambulance and two police cars. The paramedics were only slightly surprised to find two aliens waiting for them- Feferi supposed that Jane’s warnings had been passed on- and the discussion of how they were going to get him to the hospital without suffocating was surpassed only by the debate on who got to ride in the back of the ambulance with him. Jade won through sheer stubborn insistence, and said a brief goodbye to Bec before jumping up beside the makeshift stretcher-hammock of seawater Eridan was lying in. Feferi watched them streak off then clambered into the nearest police car after Jane, her blood-pusher still racing with useless concern.

The journey to the hospital was tense and silent. Feferi watched as Jane hugged Bec close, her face buried in his fur, and tried not to be too jealous. Her mind spun in circles, trying to work out what had happened, what could possibly have gone wrong. It just didn't make any sense! The last she had seen Eridan, he had been fine, his usual grumpy self. They'd both been worried about Jade and Grandpa but she just couldn't see any current that led to Eridan vanishing out of his bed and turning up _shot_ in the ocean!

Then again, she wasn't always the best at seeing those sorts of outcomes. That was what she relied on Eridan for, even now. It was stupid because since what had happened with Sollux and Aradia she knew that Earth wasn't any less dangerous for her than Alternia had been but she had really, truly thought they were somewhere safe!

 _You're second-guessing yourshell,_ she told herself sternly. She pulled her cellphone out of her pocket, stared at it. She wanted to call someone, but Grandpa and Ms Crocker were already on their way, and although she wanted to talk she wasn't so sure that a lusus was who she needed. For a moment an image of Tavros' brown text flashed into her mind, and the ebb in her panic was followed by a tidal surge moments later.

She almost lashed out when a hand touched her back, remembering just in time that humans who weren't used to Alternians would do that in an attempt to comfort. She looked around at Jane, who was watching her with the sort of concern that she herself might once have given to an injured cuttlefish.

"Is there anything I could do?" the older girl asked.

Feferi stared blankly at her, then shuddered. "Actually, if you cod stop touching me, that would kelp," she said, her tone not so apologetic as she might have tried to make it under less trying circumstances. Jane pulled her hand back with a slight frown, and Feferi breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank you! I know you were trying to be frondly, but touching isn't reely very comfortable."

"Oh, golly." Jane blushed red. "I do apologize. I should have thought to ask." She gave a lopsided shrug. "I'm sure your friend will be alright," she said, her arm twitching as she obviously held herself back from reaching out again. "I mean, it's been hours and he's still alive. That has to count for something!"

Feferi returned her encouraging smile, but her eyes told a different story. Jane might be optimistic about their chances, but she clearly didn't know as much as Feferi did about injury and death. The need for comfort tugged at her again, and without even considering what she was doing she pulled out her cellphone and started typing.

\-- cuttlefishCuller [CC] started pestering adiosToreador [AT] at 07:20 --  
CC: Tavros!  
CC: PL-EAS-E be t)(ere, I R-E-ELY R--E—ELY need to talk!!! 38O

There was a pause that was far, far too long for her frayed nerves, and then the app chimed and she let out a tiny glub at the sight of Tavros’ brown text.

AT: uM, hI THERE, fEFERI,,  
AT: wHAT, iS THE THING, tHAT IS, tHE MATTER?  
AT: iT SOUNDS, uH, lIKE SOMETHING, tHAT IS SERIOUS,,,  
CC: Eridan’s been S)(OT!!!

There was another pause, this one only brief.

AT: oKAY, yES, tHAT IS INDEED, a SERIOUS THING, tHAT HAS OCCURRED,

Feferi glubbed; Tyrian tears splashed down onto the screen as the words poured out of her into the cellphone.

CC: I don’t even know w)(at )(APP---EN--ED!!!  
CC: )(e was P-ERF-ECTLY FIN--E last night and t)(en this morning )(e was WAS)(-ED UP ON THE B--EAC)(!!!  
CC: T)(---ER---E AR----E )(OL-----ES IN HIS T)(ORAX!!!! AND )(IS )(------EAD!!!!!  
AT: uM,  
AT: i WOULD ASK, iF YOU ARE OKAY, bUT THAT IS CLEARLY, nOT THE CASE AT ALL?  
CC: I feel like I s)(oald be dugong SOM--ET)(ING!  
CC: I want to FIX )(IM and I want to find w)(oever did this and KRILL T)(--EM!!!  
CC: It’s driving me INSAN---E!!!

Feferi growled and shook the cellphone when a reply was not immediately forthcoming, which achieved nothing. She took a deep, shaky breath and a moment later Pesterchum chimed as Tavros’ reply started pouring in.

AT: yES, tHOSE ARE ACTUALLY, pERFECTLY NORMAL FEELINGS, tO BE HAVING?  
AT: fOR EXAMPLE, wHEN aRADIA WAS HURT, i VERY MUCH WANTED, tO HURT PEOPLE,,  
AT: aND ALSO i WAS ANGRY, wITH MYSELF, fOR LETTING IT HAPPEN,  
AT: yOU HAVE TO REMEMBER THAT IT IS OKAY, tO FEEL THAT WAY,  
AT: oR, uM, aNY WAY, tHAT YOU ACTUALLY FEEL, aBOUT AWFUL THINGS, tHAT HAVE HAPPENED?  
AT: bUT REALLY, iT IS NOT YOUR FAULT,  
AT: aND THAT IS ALSO, a THING THAT YOU SHOULD, eR, rEMEMBER,,

Feferi shook her head, remembering the guilt when she had seen Eridan’s body.

CC: But I was so ANGRY with )(im for vanishing!!! I t)(ought he did it on PORPOIS--E!!!  
AT: wELL, yOU DID NOT KNOW, tHAT HE WAS HURT, dID YOU?

No, she hadn’t.

CC: No, but I coral B-ELI-EVE )(ow UNCARPING I was!!!!  
AT: i THINK, tHAT ANGER, wOULD HAVE BEEN A REASONABLE THING, iF WHAT YOU BELIEVED, HAD BEEN TRUE,  
AT: aND THAT IF YOU HAD KNOWN, iT WAS NOT, tHEN YOU WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN ANGRY?  
AT: yOU ARE A GOOD PERSON, aND I THINK THAT IS A THING, tHAT IS MORE TRUE OF YOU,  
AT: bECAUSE, uM, yOU TRY VERY HARD, tO BE ONE,,  
AT: sO YOU DO NOT HAVE, aNYTHING, tO FEEL GUILTY ABOUT?

She couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto her face.

CC: You don’t t)(ink I’m an AWFUL P-ERSON?  
AT: nO,  
AT: i THINK YOU ARE, a WONDERFUL PERSON, wHO HAS MANY DIFFICULT THINGS, tO DEAL WITH,  
AT: aND i THINK, tHAT eRIDAN IS, uM, gOING TO BE OKAY, iF IT IS AT ALL POSSIBLE, fOR HIM TO BE THAT THING,,  
AT: sO, yOU sHOULD BE SURE, yOU HAVE DONE ALL YOU CAN?

Her smile grew slightly, an expression of fondness. One day she would figure out how Tavros always knew just the right thing to say to make her feel better. It was wonderful, to have someone who looked out for her for a change, rather than just protecting her or relying on her to protect _them._

CC: Okay!!  
CC: T)(ank you, Tavros!!! You’re always so K--ELPFUL!!!  
AT: i, aM GLAD, yOU THINK SO,, }:)  
CC: 38)

She tucked the cellphone away just as they pulled up outside the hospital, waiting for exactly as long as it took them to leave the car. Feferi set the pace through the doors with Bec at her heels and people scattered in front of her; the stares she got in LA were nothing compared to the shock all around her here. She found Jade standing beside the reception desk and in the back of her mind she was vaguely aware that the other girl was in in full-out bodyguard mode. Feferi didn't care; she strode straight towards the desk. The nurse on reception ducked back when Feferi’s hands slammed down onto the counter.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

The receptionist gulped. "You- you need a, um, a v-visitor's pass..."

"Miss Peixes!"

Feferi looked around to see a man in a white coat approaching, flanked by two police officers. She turned and walked up to meet them.

“I’m Doctor Grange,” said the man. “And I’ve spent the last twenty minutes on the phone with LA, finding out everything I can about Alternian physiology. Any questions you have, direct them to me on the move.”

“Where is he?” Feferi asked, too frantic to remain cool-headed. The Doctor glanced over at one of the police officers, who looked at Feferi with a visibly stiff jaw- probably to prevent it dropping, Feferi thought, given the way the other officer was staring at her boggle-eyed.

"Miss Pixies," said the officer. Feferi didn't bother to correct her; time was of the essence here. "We're going to need you answer some questions about what your friend has been doing recently."

Feferi huffed. "Is this a joke?"

"No, miss," said the officer, his voice quavering a little. "It's standard procedure for gunshot victims."

Feferi snarled; her fingers wound into her hair, and without thinking she let out a small scream that send every human around her scattering back a couple of steps. "WHALE YOUR STANDARD PROSEADURE IS OFFISHALLY STUPID! WHERE THE GLUBBING SHELL IS ERIDAN!?"

"Miss Peixes, if you'll try to _quiet down,_ we can take you there now. I’m sure the officers’ questions can wait until later," said Doctor Grange. Feferi whirled towards him to tell him just what she thought of being told to quiet down, when something soft bumped against her hand and there was a whine from near her hip. She looked down at Bec, her rage flowing out of the gap the interruption had left and leaving her feeling pretty stupid. She was supposed to be representing her people and presenting them in the best possible light, not throwing temper tantrums and trying to bully people.

She took a deep breath, her gills fluttering, and rubbed the fur between Bec's ears. Good dog, best friend. "I'm shoaly," she said to the three men in front of her. "I'm just- I don't like it when my fronds are in troububble."

"Neither of us do," added Jade, stepping up beside her.

Doctor Grange actually smiled at them, although it didn't make him look any less worried. "It's alright," he said, running a hand through the thinning hair on top of his head. "I'm used to friends and relatives getting a little upset. If you'll come this way?" He turned and started leading their small procession deeper into the hospital. "It's oddly reassuring, actually," he added as they left the lobby. Then he paused, and turned. "Ah, no dogs in the wards, I'm afraid."

"I'll take care of him," said Jane quickly, before any argument could begin. Jade nodded and gave Bec a small push towards her cousin. The dog's whimpering lasted just as long as it took Jane to fish a bone-shaped biscuit out of her pocket and offer it to him. Feferi saw them heading over to the waiting seats as her group resumed their journey. They turned a couple of corners then stopped in front of an elevator. The Doctor pressed the call button, watching the lights draw closer to their floor. They waited in silence as the doors slid open, and there was some slight negotiation as five people edged into the gleaming metal box.

"How bad is it?" she asked, as the doors slid closed.

The Doctor sighed. "Bad," he said. "I’ve not had a chance to examine your friend yet, but between what the paramedics called in and the general lack of experience in treating Alternians, I wouldn’t want to give a positive prognosis.”

"He was supposed to be in bed," said Feferi, staring at the floor.

"Maybe he went for a swim?" suggested Jade. When they all turned to look at her, she shrugged. "He has trouble sleeping. Bad nightmares."

Feferi frowned; she remembered back when they were moirails, Eridan had complained of similar problems, but it had never occurred to her to wonder what a lack of sopor might have meant for him.

 _It's not your responsibility,_ she told herself sternly. "What else?" she asked the Doctor. "I saw he was shot!"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes, in the chest and in the head." The man paused, clearly wondering whether to continue, and two stern frowns encouraged him to keep talking. "As far as I can make out, he was extremely fortunate on two counts. The damage to his lungs is extensive, and had he not ended up in the water he would probably have suffocated within minutes of sustaining his injuries. At the moment he is breathing normally through his gills and it is safe to say that his secondary respiratory system saved his life."

Feferi glubbed quietly. Jade chewed on her lower lip. “What else was he lucky with?” she asked.

Doctor Grange sighed. "The head wound. I don't know enough about Alternian brains to say how much damage was done, but as far as we can tell from our preliminary checks the bullet has missed anything vital. Once he’s stabilized we’ll want to do a CT scan; I’m honestly not certain what to make of any readings we get from him, but we have managed to confirm that there is brain activity.” He shook his head. "If he was human, he would be dead from the blood loss alone. It's almost unbelievable that he survived as it is and the fact that his condition seems to be improving is even more astounding, particularly given how little we can do to help him here."

"But you are going to help him, aren't you?" asked Feferi. The Doctor nodded.

"As much as possible, yes. The specialists in LA have advised us on pain relief and how to keep his fluids and nutrients up, but as it stands our options are sorely limited. Luckily, most of the shots went through entirely, but if he was human we would be considering surgery to remove the remaining bullet. As it is we're already concerned about his blood loss, and in the absence of any compatible donor we don't want to take the risk."

"Donor?" asked Feferi, and immediately felt twice as confused when everyone in the elevator looked at her like she had just asked why water was wet.

"Blood donor?" said Jade, when it became apparent that Feferi hadn't just been having some momentary lapse. "You know, someone who gives up some of their blood for someone who's sick or injured and needs some new blood?"

Feferi's mouth turned into a perfect round 'O' of surprise. "You can do that? That's waterful!" She turned back to the doctor. "Can you give him some of my blood? I'm shore I have plenty!"

Instead of jumping at her offer, the humans all looked even more uncomfortable. "I'm afraid it's not that simple," said Doctor Lagrange. "The data from LA confirms that Alternians do have blood types, not all of which have been quantified yet, and they aren't compatible across different hemochromes."

"Your blood would make Eridan really sick," said Jade, when Feferi stared at the doctor in incomprehension. "It would be way worse than him not having enough blood."

"Oh." Feferi's fins drooped. "Shoally. I suporpoise I sounded reely silly just then, didn't I?"

Jade and Doctor Lagrange raced to reassure her that no, she hadn't sounded silly at all, but all Feferi could think of was how unfair it was- both that she couldn't give Eridan her blood, and that nobody on Alternia had even thought of that as an idea before! Of course, if it could hurt people more often than helping them, and giving blood to someone else would leave you weak for a while, it almost made more sense not to do it. How humans had ever made something so crazy work, she didn't know!

The elevator doors slid open, releasing them into a corridor nearly identical to the one they had left downstairs. Feferi followed Doctor Lagrange out into the hospital proper.

"I'm sorry," said one of the police officers, suddenly. Feferi stared over at him, and she wasn't alone; his partner was blinking in surprise. The policeman scratched at the hair on the back of his neck. "I know, I should probably save it until you've confirmed it's your friend, but- this isn't going to be pretty, and I'm sorry about that."

"Thanks," said Feferi. Then, on an impulse; "What's your name?"

"Officer Petris," said the man.

Feferi mentally noted it, giving him a smile that she didn't really feel in her vascular pump. Not that she didn't want to give him one, it was just that she didn't really have any smiles in her right now. From the way he twitched away from her, she thought that her attempt might have come across a little too predatory. _Whoops._ Before she could try to correct the mistake, though, they were coming to a stop outside a door. Doctor Grange's hand hovered just over the doorknob.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Feferi bit back on the urge to snap at him to just get it over with, already, and left it to Jade to nod for the both of them. The Doctor waited a few seconds too long after the confirmation, then pushed the door open in one quick motion.

The room was nicely appointed; smaller than the one Aradia had been given when she was in hospital, but clean and private, which Feferi knew was worth more than size alone. She caught a glimpse of a bed in the center of a nest of machinery, the sides of a shallow plastic bath-tub rising up from the bare frame, but she didn't really get to make out much more. Between them and the tub was the hulking back of a man, the crumpled body of a uniformed cop at his feet.

Pure surprise kept Feferi frozen, a problem that did not hamper everyone.

"Get your hands up! Step away from the bed!"

Jade's hand grabbed Feferi's arm and hauled her off to the side as the hulking figure spun around, throwing a metal pan towards them with a clatter. The two cops ducked out of the way, but Officer Petris' gun spun out of his hands with a clatter. It landed next to Doctor Grange's feet; the human stared at it in surprise for a moment before the intruder barreled into him, knocking him off his feet then ducking to grab for the gun.

"FREEZE!" yelled the other officer, his own gun practically flying out of its holster. The intruder's hand snapped up, stolen gun pointing squarely at the cop, and then Feferi's head was tilting down under the weight of a frantic shove from Jade. The world exploded and filled with the scent of propellent and smoke, and through ringing ears Feferi heard Jade dive into the fray with a yell. A blink later she saw them, Jade and Doctor Grange both wrestling the intruder for control of the gun while Officer Petris, white-faced, crawled over to his injured comrade.

 _At least he's in the right plaice for it,_ thought Feferi, her thoughts edged in airy light. Her eyes flickered across the room to the tub that held Eridan, and for a moment she hesitated because she knew that they wanted her to stay safe. That was always the idea, the mantra they lived by; Feferi had to stay safe because Feferi was the most important, the one most vital to the future of her people...

_Oh, glub it all!_

She launched out of the corner like she was diving across a sea-trench, muscles strong enough to tear rock and metal propelling her speed and ferocity. The entire bundle of people went rolling across the floor when she collided with them, Jade and the doctor scattering off the sides as she shoved them with her shoulders. The human was strong and had a good grip on the gun, but he couldn't stop her from gripping his wrists and forcing the gun away from her own body. The barrel of the gun was wavering between them when the human looked into her eyes, and squeezed.

The sound hit her first, followed by something slamming into her lower thorax. Something hot splattered across her front, and Feferi looked down in growing disbelief at the bloody mess that covered them both. Red blood dripped off her, coating her hands and the gun where they rested against her body. She'd pulled them into herself the moment the human's grip went slack.

He was still grinning at her when his head slumped back against the floor, and Feferi could feel her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. This wasn't the first time she'd seen someone die, it wasn't even the first time she'd seen something so messy, but it was all over her. There was blood on her clothes and in her hair and in her mouth. She could taste it, hot and metallic and sweet, and she was hovering on a tripwire between bawling like a lost wiggler and licking her fingers.

Gentle hands pried her fingers loose from the gun and pulled her away from the man. She let herself be led to a seat, all the shouting and the running back and forth weirdly distant. Jade was crouched in front of her, eyes searching her face frantically, asking something. It took Feferi too many tries to work out that her friend was asking if she was hurt anywhere, and she managed to reply in the negative.

She told herself that she didn't know for sure that he was dead, that she hadn't tried to kill him, that he had obviously been there to hurt Eridan, but none of it really seemed to make much difference while she was still drenched in his blood. She didn't even feel bad; she just felt awfully, hideously, sickeningly numb.

Looking around, she saw that she was sitting next to the tub, and that she could see Eridan floating in it. He looked terrible. She thought maybe that she ought to be more upset about that, but instead she assessed his appearance dispassionately and concluded that he looked better than she would have expected.

She was still watching him some time later, after the injured cop and intruder had both been taken away to other rooms and more cops had swarmed the building. Feferi didn't know if she was under arrest and she didn't know whether the uniformed humans by the door knew it either; they had just taken up guard positions with her still inside the room. A detective arrived to ask her some questions, and she answered honestly in the knowledge that Officer Petris had seen the whole thing.

 _This is going to be awful PR,_ part of her thought, while she explained that she wasn't the one who had pulled the trigger. And under that, an echo that wished she had been.

The detective thanked her and left, but she didn't stop glancing over at Eridan. He was still and silent and she had nothing else to study, and yet somehow between one glimpse and the next he was staring at her with wide-open eyes.

"F-fuckin' cod, Fef," he said, his voice little more than a harsh, wavering whisper. "You look like shit."

The numbness broke with a laugh, and although she couldn't grab him into a hug she trailed her fingers in the water of his tank while he joined in with chuckles that were really more weak little chokes than anything else, because everything was going to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Monday 11th August!
> 
> So, in this chapter the title ends up being slightly literal, at least in the case of seadweller blood. Everyone who thought Eridan was dead (and was sad about that), you may now breathe out. It was a reasonable assumption: anyone but an amphibious Alternian would have been very, very dead after what happened to Eridan. But I have a whole bunch of ideas about troll biology in this 'verse, and one of those ideas is that they are tougher the more purple they get... and that they heal like fuck woah.
> 
> Also, if and when I do kill a character in future, none of yah are gonna believe it straight away any more. ;)
> 
> Also Feferi gets to cut loose a little! I like writing Feferi on the edge of flipping her shit. She's got the potential to be downright terrifying, and she chooses not to be, and I love that about her. :)


	19. ==> Be The Pimp On The Roof

### CHAPTER EIGHTEEN ==> Be The Pimp On The Roof

Dave Strider was not hiding. Nope. Definitely not. He was just... exploring the house, thoroughly. And if he happened to want to take a breather while doing that and lost track of the time, then that was entirely coincidental. As for the choice of his sitting place, well, he'd grown up in apartment blocks where he could retreat to the roof for privacy whenever he wanted. It wasn't his fault if nobody else had the cojones to come find him.

Yeah, okay, he was totally hiding on the roof. Dave tugged his feet in closer, making sure they had plenty of grip on the roof tiles. He'd had to climb up through a dusty attic full of boxes and out of a window that would have been a squeeze for an emaciated raccoon to get up here, and he wasn't looking forward to crawling back across the steep incline to get back down again. Maybe he could just stay up here forever; set himself up as a crazy hermit mystic, like some sort of ironic Yoda handing out ice cream koans to anyone who tried to talk him down.

What the fuck ever. It wasn't like Mom was even back from her mysterious midnight mission yet. Dave stared blearily in the direction of the morning sun; he'd been there to see it rise, thanks to his inability to sleep, the overwhelming need to get away from Sollux's douchebaggery, and the fact that his sister was now both definitely and definitively in lesbians with an alien chick that he was pretty sure was meant to also be his sister. He considered needling Rose about the pseudo-incest, weighed up the likelihood that she would somehow imply that he was both gay and eager to bang his own relatives, and eventually concluded that it would be worth it.

Thinking about needling Rose drifted into musings on his next Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff update. Maybe it was time he introduced another troll character? Nubbs had been a fucking riot at first but there was only so much mileage he could get out of blatantly mocking Karkat on the internet. Besides, he was getting sick of the weird emails. At some point he had either picked up a good number of alien readers, or one or two really vocally offended ones. If he hadn't been aware that Karkles' candy-red blood was a hideous and unnatural mutation before, he sure as fuck would be now, and that wasn't even counting the _really_ weird ones that had religious nut written all over them. He'd contemplating sending a couple of the more hilarious ones on to Karkat, but in the end he had just deleted them. It would have been hard to pick which ones to send anyway and since the whole Kudret mess at school he was being really fucking careful about doing anything that might be interpreted as hate-flirting. Striders were meant to be aloof, but they weren't supposed to lead people on romantically; it was against the code of all true bros and punishable by permanent loss of swag.

There was a clatter from across the roof, and Dave turned to see the attic window popping open. Rose's head appeared, her hair slightly tussled and sporting a cobweb as decoration. She looked around until she saw him, tucked in against the chimney.

"Good morning, Dave,” she said calmly, like it was totally normal to be greeting your twin brother on the roof.

"Hey, Rose,” he said, nodding in her direction and masking his sudden panic at her appearance with frozen calm. _Not yet, fuck, he wasn't ready..._ “So how was last night's great deflowering? You two set a date or do I need to go get my shotgun and have a word with Kanaya about makin' an honest woman of my sister?”

Rose leaned forward onto the edge of the window, lips flirting with the idea of a smirk. “What makes you think that she would be the one doing the deflowering?”

"Tentadick,” said Dave promptly. “Come on, you can't tell me that you and your creepy Lovecraftian fetishes would turn down the perfect opportunity to get some writhing alien sex-tentacle buried in your love cavern. I can't even buy that shit, it is simply not for sale.”

Rose smirked. “Interesting how well informed you seem to be on Alternian genital anatomy, brother dear. It does make me wonder about your own bedroom habits.”

"Don't even fucking start that shit,” said Dave. “There is such a thing as porn, you know.”

"So you admit to watching alien pornography?” Rose tilted her head. “And yet you think it is my fantasy life which intimately involves tentacles. Have you ever heard of projection, because I suspect you may be evidencing a classical case.”

"No,” said Dave. “No, there is no projection here. I do not desire the squiddle dong, or in fact any kind of dong, and anyway we were talking about you doing the crotch rumba with Kanaya all night.”

"If you have no interest in it, why consume pornographic material that relies on it to titillate?” asked Rose. “And as for Kanaya and myself, I believe you are jumping to conclusions regarding our activities. We were merely talking.”

"Talking,” echoed Dave, giving her a patented Strider-stare through his shades. Rose glanced briefly away, her cheeks turning pink.

"There... may have been some making out,” she admitted. “Quite a bit of it, even. But we both agreed that we are by no means ready to take the next step.”

Dave nodded. “That's good. Don't want to rush the incest.”

"Kanaya and I are not related and you know it,” said Rose. “And since we met one another as adolescents we are not subject to the Westermarck effect.”

"Still incest,” said Dave. He laced his fingers together and slotted them behind his head. “Shame on you, Rose, taking advantage of an unsuspecting alien that way. It's a serious violation of the Prime Directive. We'll have to revoke your diplomatic immunity for this breach of regulations.”

“Somehow, I think I will survive,” said Rose. “Now will you come down? The social worker has arrived and I think this will go better if we manage to convince her that you have not run away or been buried under the driveway.”

Wasn't like he could avoid it forever. Dave shrugged and started to scoot over to the window. Rose backed up and helped him wriggle back through. His heart was pounding as they clambered down the narrow stairs that led to the loft, and he responded to Rose's small jibes almost on automatic. There were voices in the sitting room as he approached. He saw Kanaya first, sitting on of the armchairs and sipping from a mug. She glanced up at them as they approached, and the movement drew the attention of her conversational partner. A slightly worn-looking woman stood up from the other armchair and smiled at them, her eyes crinkling along the wrinkles beside them.

"Ah, you must be Dave,” the strange woman said, holding out a hand to shake. “I'm Sasha Keppler, your social worker.”

Dave stared at her hand until Rose elbowed him in the ribs. He shook it for the bare minimum of one jerk up and down, then let go and threw himself backwards onto the couch. Rose winced as the furniture made a tortured noise.

"Is that strictly necessary?” she asked.

"Yes,” said Dave, shuffling into a decent lounging position. “It was completely and utterly unavoidable.” He turned back to Keppler. “I don't gotta say jack shit to you.”

The social worker smiled again, but this time her eyes looked a little sad. They were amazingly expressive eyes, large and brown and probably even limpid. Dave adjusted his shades and silently gave thanks for Bro and his insistence on a perfect poker face at all times.

"Dave, I'm not your enemy,” she said. “I don't want to tear anyone's family apart, and as far as I am concerned the less disruption to your life the better.” She paused and let out a sigh. “That said, you need to understand that your brother is currently in prison, and that certain things found in the apartment you shared are extremely concerning to us. I need to get a picture of your home life, in your own words, so we can assess any legal ramifications for him and to make a decision as to whether it constitutes a safe environment for you should he be released. While I would much rather have your guardian present, since you're sixteen we can go ahead without her, if you prefer. She seems to be running late.”

Dave was about to reply that it could wait until Mom got back, but before he could the sound of the front door slamming echoed through the mansion. Dave sat up just in time to see a blur of green and gray charging in through the door.

"DAVE!" squealed Nepeta, bouncing onto the end of the couch and perching there. "Dave! The huntress and her meowrail purrsent themselves at the gates of the castle where the purrince is being held purrisoner!"

Sure enough, there was tall, dark and sweaty, creeping into the room like he was trying to apologize for being there at all. And behind him, sauntering up and twirling her cane, was...

"Rezi!" Dave tried not to sound relieved. "What, did you track me here by scent? I'm gonna tell Karkles on you; you know how he freaks out over your bloodhound act."

The cane tapped the arm of the couch under his head. "Doctor Lalonde invited us over to provide moral support," she said. Following the tilt of her cane- and ignoring Equius' stammering introduction to Kanaya- Dave looked over to see Tav rolling into the hallway.

"Hey there, buddy," he said, poking his head out far enough to be seen and waving. "Welcome to Casa Lalonde. Be careful, they might not let you leave."

“Dave,” said Kanaya warningly, getting up out of her seat. She shook her head. “I'll go and make some more cocoa,” she said, leaving the room.

"Um, hi, Dave!" called Tavros, glancing at Kanaya as she passed.

"I assume you are all friends of Dave's?" said Keppler, looking taken aback at the sudden alien invasion.

"Nah, they're only here for the cocoa," said Dave. "That and to blow up the White House. You should totally go and warn the president."

Terezi prodded him with the cane. "Falsehood!"

Rose sighed. “Terezi, if you could join us in here... why don't the rest of you all move through to the kitchen? Dave and I will join you when we are done here.”

Dave peered over his shades at his sister. “Holy shit. Did you call up 'Rezi as legal council?”

Terezi dropped down onto the couch, almost landing on Dave's feet. “She most certainly did!”

“I felt it was prudent,” Rose said. “The last I heard from Mother, she was assisting Detectives Sikes and Francisco in her capacity as a biochemist. Since she has failed to get in contact since this morning, and her phone is going to voicemail, I deduced she was absorbed in her work and would not return in time for this meeting.” Rose smiled at the crowd gathered in the door. “And I thought that Tavros could provide moral support in the aftermath. Alas, my interventions end there.”

“Um, I thought, that if we were, um, going to be here, then we should invite Equius, and also Nepeta," said Tavros. He blushed a faint brown and glanced over at the olive-blood girl. Catching sight of this, Dave nodded.

"Gotcha, my man. Need to keep that swag fresh, after all. You better watch your step, mind- that kitty's not just got claws, she's got a cuddlebeau on the football team and he could bench-press your spine."

"Huh?" said Nepeta, as Tavros blushed even more deeply. Equius narrowed his eyes, but couldn't seem to make up his mind whether to glare at Dave or Tavros and settled for a sort of generic angry glower.

“Really, it's fine if you want to reschedule,” said Keppler, looking between them. “I don't want you to feel pressured...”

“Is this gonna help Bro?” asked Dave, draping an arm across the back of the couch.

Keppler pursed her lips. “Possibly. I won't lie; whether or not what you say helps your brother depends on whether or not he's been a good guardian to you.” She leaned forwards. “Would you like to rearrange the appointment?”

Stomach churning, Dave glanced across at Terezi. He didn't want to have the interview at all. He wished Momlonde was there. But he had to admit that if he had been allowed to choose one person in the world to have with him, it would have been his brilliant, sharp-nosed friend.

“Nah, we're good to go,” he said. He waved his free hand towards the crowd of freeloaders in the door. “Hey, see you all in a few.”

“Good, luck!” Tavros called, as Kanaya herded them out into the corridor and towards the kitchen. The last sight Dave caught of them was Nepeta, waving furiously, and then he was alone in the room with Keppler, Rose and Terezi.

Shit. He had not thought this through. Terezi must have smelled his sudden realization, because she started to smirk.

“Alright, Dave,” said Keppler, pulling out a small notepad. “Now, to start with, I'd like you to tell me about your life with Dirk in your own words.”

Dave glanced over to Terezi, who grinned at him, then turned back to Keppler. “In my own words?”

The social worker nodded. “Yes, that's right. Anything that comes to mind, or anything you'd like to mention, you can do so.”

Being a Strider meant not smirking the width of his face, but Dave felt his lips quirk upwards anyway. “So you wanna hear 'bout my life with Bro? Time for me to school ya in what you gotta know. Better hold on tight, get ready for the show; are you sitting pretty now 'cos here we go...”

Keppler's eyebrows had shot up to her hairline and she seemed to be biting back on a chuckle. Dave took that as a good sign and kept going. “ My life is not a snapshot from a TV screen; no two-point-four kids and no dog to be seen. We don't do normal 'cos we're followin' a dream, and looking from the outside, I guess it seems obscene. And you know it ain't perfect, 'cos nothing ever is, but we keep our shit together and we handle our own biz. There ain't a thing between us that's worth getting in a fizz, 'cause as guardians go, yeah, Bro's the fuckin' shiz.”

He swung his legs out off the couch to sit upright. “I ain't gone hungry, even when the power's out, and that ain't been a thing since the money's been about. It don't matter how he makes it, I ain't gonna pout. It's legal, I don't touch it, so quiet down the shout.” He held out one of his arms, tapped at the solid muscle on his bicep. Sure, he wasn't as strong as Egbert, but who was and anyway, he was faster and more coordinated. “I stand up for myself and it's him who taught me how, a bruise or two then to save a lotta hurtin' now. If we did it in a dojo then you wouldn't have a cow; I'm a martial goddamn artist and my Bro can take the bow.”

He leaned forwards, fixing her with the stony stare of his shades. Keppler was jotting down notes, but her eyes were still on him and her attention hadn't wavered. “Every time I tumble he's been there to make the catch; every time I lose the game he helps me win the match. You might think he takes the cake, but he don't, he takes the batch, and he shares the haul with me when I'm hurt and need a patch. I've never felt in danger, except of looking dumb, and growin' up with Bro has been a riot full of fun. I get good grades and my street cred isn't bum, and I'm safer there with him than I am with anyone.”

Silence fell as he finished, which was broken by Terezi clapping and an undignified snuffle of suppressed amusement from Rose. Dave didn't move, just kept leaning forwards, staring at Keppler from behind his shades. From the way she shifted in her seat, it unsettled her slightly, but although her smile wavered it didn't vanish. Still didn't look faked, either. Huh.

"That was very creative, Dave," she said, glancing briefly down at what she had scribbled on her pad while he was in the flow. "I'll admit, I've done a lot of these interviews, but that's the first time someone's responded in rap. Did you really come up with all that on the spot?"

"Sure did," said Dave, finally sitting back with an exaggerated stretch. Like hell would he admit to it if he hadn't, but the truth was on his side here. "It's a serious business, spinning out some truly ill beats. I ain't gonna insult you with some prepackaged shit when you're comin' here asking for the raw truth, and trust me, that shit was raw like it was a steak and it just got served to a vampire in a fancy-ass French restaurant."

Keppler made another note. "So that's a hobby of yours, then?" she asked.

Dave nodded. "Yeah. Not the only one. I got plenty of interests, you know, all of which Bro totally supports me in. Because he's fucking awesome and a good guardian."

The social worker nodded. "I see- well, it seems you've been fairly comfortable, but I have a few more specific questions now, if that's alright?"

"Fire away," said Dave, bracing himself to be asked about the swords or the shuriken or the godblasted smuppets.

The question that came was entirely unexpected. "Could you tell me why you and your brother were living independently of your birth family?"

Dave managed to contain his surprise reaction to a single blink, which was hidden by the shades. Rose cleared her throat. “Ms Keppler, if I might explain...”

Keppler cut her off with a raised hand. "Miss Lalonde, while I will want to talk to you about this later, right now I want to hear Dave's perspective."

Shifting on the couch, Dave bought himself a few more seconds by fiddling with the cushions and pretending to get comfortable. "I don't get it. Why does that even matter? Didn't we already go through this shit when Bro got my guardianship in the first place?"

"Ten years ago, in a different state," said Keppler. "And that wasn't really an investigation, since all parties were willing to accept the change in custody." She waggled her pen at him. "Which still doesn't answer the question."

Dave glanced over at Rose. She returned his look with naked dismay, and he turned back with his stomach freezing. Shit, there was not going to be any pleasant way through this. He took a deep breath which failed to do anything helpful at all. False fucking advertising was what it was; that shit was meant to be calming or steadying. Narrative cliches had lied to him; he might never recover.

"Okay, the thing you gotta understand here, is I was pretty young when it all went down," he said. Keppler nodded, and he continued despite the prickling on the back of his neck as he remembered. "But for as long as I remember, Bro and Mom never got on. I dunno if it was something that started off mild and I just remember the times after it got worse, or if we were always at Defcon One, but it was pretty fucking bad. I never got it when I was a kid, exactly, but I think I kinda do now." He glanced back over at Rose, still sitting there and growing steadily more and more silent by the minute. Dave hadn't even known that higher grades silence were available, but yeah, there they were. "Guess it wasn't easy being a single Mom with three kids, especially before any Skaialabs patents really took off. Mom was smart and she worked hard, but that didn't mean she could be there, and Bro didn't like that."

That and the drinking, but like fuck was he mentioning that. Bad enough that he was floating in the system right now. He didn't want to dump Rose in the same shit, even if he could feel her ice-cold disagreement from across the room.

"I see," said Keppler, jotting down some more notes. "And what was that like for you?"

Dave slumped back, head resting on the arm of the couch to stare at the ceiling. "Gee, you mean being a dumbass little kid living in a house with a cool-as-ice Bro who's practically raising me and my sis, and a Mom who always wants us to know how much she loves us, and always getting the feeling like I can only have one or the other? What the fuck do you think it was like?" He shrugged. "We dealt with it."

"When your brother left, was it your choice to go with him?"

"Yeah." Dave couldn't help it- he glanced towards Rose. His sister was sitting stiffly, like someone had jammed a stick down the back of her shirt. She probably needed a hug, but hugging still felt weird and he didn't think he could even start to figure it out with a stranger watching. Plus she would never let him live it down.

"It wasn't anything personal,” he said, turning back to Keppler. “More like logic. Me and Rose... we didn't want either of them to be upset. Little brats can be real fucking simplistic about that shit; I swear we woulda been bribing them both with AJ and squiddles if we'd had 'em to hand. But as it was- there were two of us and two of them, and it just kinda made sense to break it down boy-girl. Seemed like the only way to make the decision, back then."

Rose let out an almost imperceptible huff of breath. Dave closed his eyes briefly, then let his face turn back towards the ceiling.

"Do you think you'd still have made the same decision if presented with that choice today?" asked Keppler. Dave frowned.

"What the hell kinda question is that?" he asked. "If Bro had been here that long, or if we'd been closer in age, everything would be different, wouldn't it? Alternate me could be a chick called Trixie for all I know. Her milkshake could be bringing all the boys to the yard..."

He could have kicked himself when he saw Keppler making another note. Fuck, he needed to not be using the sort of metaphors that got him in trouble with Rose right now in case they all got ideas.

"Humor me," Keppler suggested mildly, like he hadn't said anything amiss. "I'm curious."

Dave opened his mouth to say of course he wouldn't do anything different, he was happy with Bro and didn't regret anything, and closed it again when he caught sight of Rose. Her hands were gripping the couch, and her mouth was a tight line, the way Bro's got when he wasn't happy about something.

Mom didn't get that look. When she was sad, she blinked in a weird, quick way. It was exactly what Dave did, when Bro pushed him too far and too fast and he didn't want to admit how bad he wanted to cry.

"No," he said quietly, and it was wrong, all wrong, that much sincerity should have burned his throat on the way out, not soothed something inside. He coughed to cover the feeling, glad again for his shades. "I mean, Bro's not a bad guardian. He's fucking awesome. But I think- I think Rose would've been happier with him. And..." his voice trailed off, fading out of his control before he managed to wrestle it back into obedience. "And Mom's a pretty cool chick, you know? I think I would've grown up nearly as badass here; it's not much of a sacrifice."

Rose cleared her throat. “If... if it means anything, I think that I concur. I have always had a better rapport with Dirk than with our mother. I suspect now that I would have been happier with him.”

Keppler nodded and Dave sent a burst of silent gratitude in his sister's direction. He might be messing up, but Rose had his back.

 _But what about TZ?_ he wondered, eyes turning to his unusually silent friend. _Why isn't she helping me out?_

The sound of Keppler getting to her feet drew his attention. "Well, Dave, I think that's it for the moment," said the social worker, holding out her hand. After a moment Dave took it, and shook properly this time. Something in the way she gripped his hand felt respectful, like she was dealing with an equal and not some kid she was planning to judge. "Thank you for your time. I'll can stay a little longer, if you have any questions."

And look hopelessly needy? Dave shook his head. "Nah, I'm cool." He nodded to Terezi. “I gotta make sure the guests don't start drawing on the wallpaper or licking the artwork."

That got him a smile from the social worker and a cackle from Terezi. Rose stood to show Keppler out and it was hard to wait until he heard the front door open, the sound of distant goodbyes.

“What the hell, 'Rezi?” he asked, turning to his friend. “Thought you were here to stop me saying anything dumb?”

Terezi turned her face up to him. “I was here for justice, Dave. Ms Keppler was seeking the truth, and you gave it to her.”

“And that's supposed to help!?” He couldn't keep the frustration out of his voice. Terezi stood and walked up to him, until she was only inches away and he could feel the weak heat of her body. She tilted her head up- she was a couple of inches shorter than him, it was weird, he always felt like she was so tall- and he felt like she was looking straight into his eyes. Forget that it was impossible. Terezi could look through someone's soul with her nose.

“If he's a good guardian, then it does,” she said. “Do you have faith in your Bro, Dave?”

He was still searching for the answer to that when Rose came back and the three of them headed out towards the kitchen together. Dave tried to convince himself that everything was going to be okay, that he was going to go home and live with Bro again. It had to be. But Terezi's words kept echoing in his thoughts; had Bro been a good guardian? Dave had always thought he was, but what if...

No. He shut down that line of thought before it could go any further.

The rest of the house was weirdly quiet, and the kitchen was empty, but the back door was open and voices were drifting inside. Dave followed Rose and Terezi out; there wasn't anyone near the pool, but as they walked around it Dave could see the other four sitting out on the nearby lawn. He could make out a blanket- some plates of food- were they having a fucking picnic?

Apparently so, because as he approached Nepeta looked up from her dainty teacup and saluted him with a triumphant smile. Dave shoved his hands in his pockets and ambled over with maximum casualness, nodding to Equius and stepping politely around Tav. He stopped with the toes of his sneakers just brushing against the edge of the blanket, which he now suspected to be a shawl and probably an expensive one at that. Kanaya kept casting worried glances at a spilled-tea stain on the corner.

"Shit," he drawled, watching as Nepeta hunted out another cup and started to fill it from the teapot, tongue sticking out in concentration. "When did we take a trip through the Looking Glass? Because this is some serious Mad Hatter shit right here. What happened, Nep hear of the Cheshire Cat and get carried away?"

"This was Nepeta's idea," said Kanaya. "But as it is a nice day, it seemed a fair one. Sandwich?"

Dave declined with a shake of his head, and turned aside- right into the path of the cup Nepeta was holding up towards him. "It's chameowmile," she said, beaming.

"Etiquette requires that you take it," added Equius, who hadn't otherwise moved a muscle since Dave arrived. There was a faint sheen of blue over his skin, and the dainty cup in his hand was both full and not steaming.

"Ain't no Strider alive who can argue with a touch of class," said Dave, taking the cup and folding his legs up under him to drop, sitting, to the picnic shawl. He took a surreptitious sniff of the liquid and, yeah, no way was he drinking that. "So what's the haps?"

“We have been, um, discussing human picnic etiquette,” said Tavros, as Terezi sat down beside Dave and Rose settled herself neatly next to Kanaya. “And also, other things.”

“Like how Rose and Kanaya filled their flushed quadrant!” Nepeta squeaked. Kanaya turned a deep shade of jade green, and Dave didn't miss the faint grinding sound that came from Equius' direction at the mention of the new relationship. Huh. Maybe Nepeta had been onto something, giving him something fragile to hold and a reason not to break it.

“Was your interview beneficial?” asked Equius. It was a transparent attempt to change the topic. Dave was about to say something- fuck even knows what, he didn't have an answer but that didn't mean he couldn't respond- when with a maroon-toned flickering Aradia appeared in the middle of the picnic.

Trained on a hair trigger, Dave had jumped back and was on his feet before he could even process who was there. Nearby, Rose and Kanaya had fallen over in a tangle of surprised limbs, while Nepeta was hiding behind Equius- who had completely shattered his teacup, splattering the contents across the shawl. Even Tavros looked like he would have jumped back if he could; the only one immune was Terezi, who sat unconcerned in the exact same spot and frowned.

“What?” she said. Belatedly it occurred to Dave that if she couldn't see, then she couldn't see Aradia. Mental projections were not known for their extreme BO.

“Um,” said Tavros, taking his hands off the wheels of his chair. “Aradia just, uh, joined us?”

“Oh,” said Terezi, a little flatly. “Hi there.” Then she seemed to perk up, and her head turned towards the house. “Mr Appleberry Blast!”

Dave followed her gaze and saw Sollux running across the lawn in a hilariously uncoordinated tangle of limbs.

“Dude,” he said, as the yellow-blooded troll drew close. “Some people were not meant to run. You need to get a license for that shit before you put someone's eye out with your elbow.”

“Thut up, Thtrider,” gasped Sollux, grabbing the back of Tavros' chair for support. “Thith ith- thith ith important.” He broke off, panting.

Unimpressed, Terezi grabbed her cane off the ground and jabbed at Sollux's ribs with it, or whatever weird bones trolls had instead of ribs. “Well, out with it, then! I see no reason for delay!” Dave's eye twitched and Tavros snickered, but Sollux just glared at them.

“AA hath newth you're going to want to hear,” he said, almost snarling.

Dave glanced over at Aradia, who was still hovering silent in the middle of the picnic blanket. An uncomfortable feeling of chill came over him; in the words of the great Harrison Ford, assuming George Lucas hadn't messed with them yet, he had a bad feeling about this.

“Sollux, what has happened?” asked Rose, quietly.

“It'th your guardianth,” said Sollux. “They went to find Vrithka. They're going to die thoon. Now do you want to thut up and lithten already?”

Oh yeah. Definitely a bad feeling, and seeing the looks on Terezi and Tavros' faces Dave was one hundred percent certain that things were about to get a lot worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An EARLY UPDATE? What sorcery is this?
> 
> Well, as it turns out, the internet people done fucked up listening on the phone, so instead of having a day without internet when moving house I'm gonna have a week without. So I thought I'd drop this chapter on y'all early rather than making you wait a week.
> 
> Of course, past Celyn was a shit and only half-edited this thing. So much rewriting was done, you have no idea, and I'm certain I lost some really good stuff while butchering it last night. *glares at past self for this inexcusable folly*
> 
> Assuming my internet returns on schedule, I will have the next chapter for you on Tuesday 19th August. If my internet does not return on schedule, I recommend checking out one of the [many](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Askerian/pseuds/Asuka%20Kureru) [other](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SplickedyHat/pseuds/SpoonerizeSwiftness) [talented](http://archiveofourown.org/users/elanor_pam/pseuds/elanor_pam) [homestuck](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CurlicueCal/pseuds/CurlicueCal) [writers](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Everlind/pseuds/Everlind) out there, if you haven't already. ;)


	20. ==> Be The Dreamer At The Discovery

### CHAPTER NINETEEN ==> Be The Dreamer At The Discovery

Jade Harley shifted in the chair. It was too small for her, really, all cheap plastic and metal tubing and low enough that her knees were starting to ache. She still wasn’t planning to give it up until Feferi came to relieve her watch. There were cops outside the door and all through the hospital, but someone had tried to kill Eridan twice and she wasn’t going to plan on there not being a third attempt.

They were in a new room now, a more secure one; the old one had become a crime scene and wasn’t very hygienic with all the blood. Jade had supervised the moving of an unconscious Eridan while Feferi answered difficult questions, and Jane had left with Bec to make sure Grandpa arrived as soon as possible. Everything was going as smoothly as it possibly could but Jade still couldn’t shake the rattlers in her stomach. They’d planned months ago for the eventuality that someone was hurt badly- they had to, with Feferi as such a prominent and controversial public figure- but even after everything they’d been through Jade hadn’t expected it to ever really happen.

Leaning over and examining Eridan’s dressings, she tried to summon the same cool head that had carried her through the Ringmaster ordeal last summer. It was harder when all she could do was sit and wait. One of the tape edges on a dressing was coming loose and Jade reached out to pat it back into place. It was near Eridan’s gills, and she took the chance to really take a look at them now that he couldn’t see her interest and say something stupid like the buttface he was. They fluttered like living gashes on his sides, blood-purple under translucent gray. Hypnotized, she reached out and ran a single finger along the rippling edge of one.

“Don’t fuckin’ poke that.”

Jade let out a squeak and snatched her hand back with a splash. Her cheeks burned as she saw Eridan looking at her from bruised, shadowed eyes.

“Sorry!” she said, wiping her hand quickly on her skirt. “I didn’t mean… they were just… how are you feeling?”

Eridan’s head rolled slightly so he was facing up, and he snorted. The gesture blew bubbles in the water tank and led to a pained wince from the injured seadweller. “Like shit, what d'you expect?” His voice was rough and faint, and his gills shuddered as he hauled in a heavy gulp of water. “I got holes in me where there ain’t supposed to be any kind a perforation, the room’s all fuzzy and spinnin’ fit to make me puke out my digestion bladder, I’m stuck in a tank a stale fuckin’ water so as I don’t suffocate, and the only painkiller that might stand a doomwhale’s chance on a fuckin’ mountaintop a making me not feel like a glubbin’ ball a endless agony is sopor, which I don’t ewer want in me again.” He paused, winced again, and continued in equally strained tones. “Although I am seriously reconsiderin’ that stance and might prove amenable to some kind a controlled dosin’ in the ewent that these brittle-boned brown apes get their fuckin’ act together and actually acquire some. About the only good thing I can say is that I ain’t gettin’ any dreams, which is a real fuckin’ blessin’ considerin’ that I’m only awake for a few minutes at a go”

Jade whistled and tried to hide the shiver that ran over her. “Wow, that’s pretty bad!” She hesitated, chewing on her lip. Eridan let out a small sigh, which caused a single bubble, then stopped breathing through his mouth altogether. His gills flared. To her surprise, Jade thought that he looked almost peaceful, and then wondered at how rarely he ever did.

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” she said, quietly. Eridan’s eye cracked open again, and he gave her a shark-toothed grin that held very little humor.

“Not half as fuckin’ glad as I am. I swear, soon as I’m ambulatory again I am goin’ to make that ancestor a yours pay in blood for ewery hole in my hide.”

His words were like an ice-cold bolt of lightning down Jade’s spine. “Grandmother? She had something to do with this?”

“You didn’t know?” Eridan stiffened, trying to grab at the sides of the tank with arms as powerful as cooked spaghetti. “Shit, we gotta do somethin’, Jade, ‘cos she had fuckin’ ewerythin’ to do with this. I was just tryin’ to have an innocent night-time swim, but as it turns out Crocker had some clandestine dealin’s planned in that fancy hidden dock a hers. Her an’ her trained monkey didn’t take fondly to me crashin’ their party, hence this.” He twitched his fingers in a vague indication of his injuries, then hissed and went very, very still.

Jade shook her head, trying to clear it as it flooded with her own suspicions, everything that had seemed wrong or off that she’d been trying to ignore. “But couldn’t it be a mistake, or-“

Despite the obvious pain, Eridan lifted his head out of the water to glare at her. “Jade, she told him the best fuckin’ place to shoot me. She was plottin’ on how to react to my mysterious an’ sudden disappearance so as not to upset you.” He scowled. “It’s hard not to take that personal.”

“That… that _evil hag!”_ Jade’s hands curled into fists and she grit her teeth, struggling for control as her heart started to ache with betrayal.

With a splash, Eridan dropped back down into the tank. “Ain’t gonna argue with that.” He took a couple more labored breaths, then added. “Look, I dunno what the stuff was they were smugglin’ in them crates, but it sure as Gl’bgolyb’s tentacled ass weren’t any kind a wholesome. The shit was glowin' blue. I managed to owerhear where they were takin’ it- you got your cellphone?”

Wriggling until she could tug it out of her pocket, Jade nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, here’s the coordinates…” Eridan rattled off a string of numbers, and Jade typed them in to a global mapping app, honing in on a dockside in a very familiar city.

“Eridan, that’s in LA!”

He grinned, white teeth glistening in the water. “Great. We know some cops there, they can do their fuckin’ jobs and handle this. Now piss off, I’m gonna fall asleep again.”

Jade set her cell down beside him and folded her arms, sitting back on the chair. “Nu-uh, I’m not moving until-“

The door clattered open. “Hi Jade!” said Feferi, darting in. She was dressed in a bizarre mish-mash of clothes; the hospital had tried to scrounge up what they could to replace her bloodstained outfit, and Feferi had simply grabbed whatever was most colorful and worn it all at once. Jade wasn’t sure there was anyone else on the planet who would willingly put on a Hawaiian shirt over orange lycra and floral print, but Feferi had cheered up since cleaning up so it wasn’t like it mattered.

Jade greeted her adopted sister with a weak grin. “Hey Feferi!” She could hear the artificial brightness in her own voice. “Eridan’s awake,” she added.

From the tub, Eridan snarled. “Screw you Harley, I was almost in the cool, welcomin’ embrace of rest, you heartless fuckin’ witch.”

Jade shrugged, and Feferi walked over to smile at Eridan, trailing her hands in the water tank. “Come on, don’t be such a grouchy octopus!” she said, flicking droplets at Eridan’s nose before looking back up at her human sister. “Jade, I’m here to tag out with you; Grandma’s downstairs-“

Water splashed out of the tank as Eridan surged upwards. “FUCK! Let me at her…”

Two pairs of hands forced him back down, Jade and Feferi both getting soaked from the neck down in the process. “Eridan, you’ll hurt yourself!” Jade snapped.

Eyes wide, Feferi looked between them. “Waterever’s going on?” she asked. Jade glowered.

“It was Grandmother,” she said, almost snarling herself. “She did all of this! She’s up to something really bad and Eridan found out.”

Feferi’s hair rippled as she stepped back from the tank, hands twisting into claws. “WHAT!?” she screamed, and the harmonics in the word made every bit of metal in the room ring and Jade’s ears ache like they were about to bleed. “I’m going to RIP OUT HER GLUBBING SPINE AND FEED IT TO HER!”

Jade couldn’t do terrifying alien rage, but she could do stubborn. She put her hands on her hips and thrust out her chin.“No, you’re not!” she snapped, and Feferi and Eridan both blinked at her in wordless shock. “She’s my ancestor,” Jade added, more softly. “I’ll deal with her.”

Slowly and with great caution, Feferi nodded. “Want any help?” she asked, her voice sweet and her fangs bared.

Jade shook her head. “You need to stay here and make sure she doesn’t send any more assassins after Eridan.”

Feferi nodded, a dangerous look still plucking at her mouth. “Aye aye, Skipper,” she said, all but purring. _Oh please, let them come,_ said her movements as she stalked over to the tank. Jade traded one last nod with the seadweller princess before turning and hurrying out of the door at twice her normal walking pace.

“Fef, thanks for stickin’ around and protectin’ me,” she heard Eridan saying as she left the room. “I feel so much safer with you around; we always did hawe a special bond, you an’ me…”

His voice faded into the background as she moved down the corridor past the cops, swallowed by the general noise of the hospital. Jade pelted to the elevators, watching all the way for a familiar red suit, and almost collided with a man stepping out of the elevator doors. A pair of broad, strong hands settled on her shoulders, steadying her.

“Careful there, old girl, don’t want a second casualty,” said Grandpa. Jade let out a small squeak then grabbed him into a rough bear-hug, which was returned with gusto.

She was sniffling slightly when she let go, and Grandpa pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and presented it to her. “Steady on, there, it’ll work out.” He glanced up and down the corridor, then leaned in closer. “But I do have something rather important to tell you. I came as soon as I heard about Eridan, of course, but I need to tell you and Feferi that I may have some idea about who is behind this beastly business…”

“Grandmother, you mean?” said Jade. The surprise on the old man’s face told her she was right. “Eridan woke up and told us…” She hesitated, then took a step back and folded her arms. “Grandpa, if you knew, why didn’t you say anything!”

The old man looked a little sheepish, scratching at the back of his head. “Well, m’girl, I honestly didn’t think she would dare be so vicious with you about. As soon as she found out about you she was jolly keen on having her shot at winning you over; I stalled as long as I could, but that woman is a menace!” He sighed heavily. “She threatened to challenge my custody of you if I didn’t give her a shot and keep my mouth shut, and believe you me, if I’m rich, then she’s a darned sight richer. After that nasty kidnapping business and with Feferi and Eridan living with us, she could have kept us tied up in the courts until you were a grown woman, assuming she didn’t win outright.” He reached out and wrapped an arm around her. Jade let him tug her in close. “I had faith in you youngsters and your ability to see through her sickly sweet coating to the abominable witch below. Believe me, had I thought she would have any of you attacked, I wouldn’t have bloody done it!”

Jade leaned into him, breathed in the smell of gunpowder and seaweed. “Grandpa, what do we do now?” she asked. “We can’t let her get away with it!”

“No, we cannot,” Grandpa agreed. “But we’ll have to be careful. Betty never took rejection well, and she always did used to break the toys she couldn’t play with. Eridan’s word against hers won’t get far, I’m afraid, and she’ll have her patsies all lined up ready for if she can’t silence him.” He frowned. “Your best bet is to cut a deal, for now. She stays away from us, we stay away from her.”

Jade tilted her head to look up at him. “But we won’t, right? I mean, Jane seems really nice and I don’t think I could stand to lie to her like that!”

Grandpa winked. “Well, of course we won’t mean it, any more than she will. But I like our chances of winning a shadow war a good sight better than forcing her hand with open battles!”

Jade nodded, then glanced at the elevator. “Come with me?” she asked. Grandpa’s mustache twitched and he laid his hand on her shoulder.

“Lead the way, m’dear,” he said.

They rode the elevator down in silence, Jade leaning into her Grandpa’s shoulder. Later, she was definitely going to give the old man a piece of her mind for keeping secrets and scheming behind their backs, but for now she was just glad to have him here.

The elevator opened into the busy hospital lobby, but even amongst the crowds of people Betty Crocker’s red skirt suit stood out. The old woman was remonstrating with some cops, and Jade was briefly glad that their guards had delayed her. Then Crocker looked around and caught sight of her, and Jade braced herself as the woman swept over in a haze of warm baking cookie smell.

“Jade, darling, I’m so glad to see that…”

Jade stepped back to evade the incoming hug and glared at Crocker. “No. Don’t. Eridan’s awake, _Grandmother,_ and he told us everything, and you’re too late because I don’t want to have anything to do with you ever again!”

Crocker blinked, then her lips curled up in a smile as fake as plastic. “I’m sorry, dear, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about the secret boats at the dock! The blue stuff in the crates!” Jade leaned forward and lowered her voice, aware of all the people around them and Grandpa's advice in mind. “The fact that you helped some asshole shoot Eridan five times and dump him in the water.”

Above the smile, Crocker’s eyes narrowed to sharp, hard chips of frozen glass. “No, no. I’m certain I’d remember all of that. Are you sure Eridan’s not confused? After all, with the injuries and the painkillers and the stress of the attack in the hospital…”

“He’s not confused, Grandmother, and neither is Feferi.” Jade walked right up to her, put herself within easy attacking distance, and looked down at the woman who had claimed to be her family. “She says you can take your endorsement and stick it up your blowpipe! We don’t need your name and we don’t need your schemes and we don’t need your family, either, because we already are one and yours is awful! So here’s your choice: either you give us the funding you promised, anonymously, then stay away from us, or as soon as we’re done talking here I’m calling the police over and telling them everything Eridan just told me.”

The mask dropped away; Crocker was shorter than her, but still somehow managed to make looking up at Jade slightly intimidating. “Go ahead; I certainly have nothing to hide. Do you really think that you can hurt me with some cockamamie story baked up in the delusional mind of a badly injured alien?”

“Maybe not you,” Jade agreed. “But I bet we can hurt your stock prices. And, well, Skaianet Laboratories has several business plans that would involve moving into the same markets as Crockercorp.”

The old woman visibly froze. “I had been hoping that as family we could form a partnership,” she said slowly. “But if your plan is to position yourselves as competitors I suppose I don’t have much choice other than to treat you as such.”

Jade folded her arms. “If you’re going to start threatening us, then maybe I should go and find Jane and tell her everything myself!”

Crocker’s eyebrows rose. “By all means, go ahead. She’ll tell you what I told you; this is clearly some feverish confusion of Eridan's, and the poor boy doesn't know what he's saying.”

“Will she really?” asked Jade, starting to smile a little wolfishly. “Because Jane seems really nice, and she likes researching and investigating things. I don’t have to persuade her that I’m telling the truth, I just have to persuade her enough that she starts _looking_ for it. How many secrets do you have from her? Do you think she’s going to forgive you, if she finds them out?”

Crocker leaned in, red lips hovering so close to Jade’s ear that she could feel the woman’s cookie breath brushing across her skin. “You do not get to take Jane away from me, my dear. You and my dear brother and your alien friends and your little company are not worth my stock price. She is.”

Jade’s heart was pounding in her chest. “Do you really think we’re going to leave her with you?” she whispered back.

Crocker smiled and stepped back. “I am willing to make a deal with you, Miss Harley,” she said, in more normal tones. “I and my associates will steer clear of you, your family, and your family’s business, if you and your associates agree to steer clear of mine. I am willing to throw in an anonymous donation to the Alternian Campaign to sweeten the deal for you, but those are my terms and I will not be making any further concessions to your little temper tantrum.”

Jade’s fists clenched. “This is not a temper tantrum and you know it!” she hissed.

“Are you going to take the deal, or not?” asked Crocker coolly. Jade paused; for a long moment, she considered turning around to look at Grandpa, to see if he would give her a nod of approval. Then, without so much as a glance over her shoulder, she held out a stiff hand to Crocker.

“I’ll take it,” she said, through gritted teeth. “But don’t expect us to let you get away with it if we see any more sneaky business!”

“Oh, don’t worry, my dear,” said Crocker, taking her hand and shaking it with cool, dry fingers. “You’ve been quite clear on that point.”

She turned and swept away before Jade could do anything about it. She started a little as a warm hand landed on her shoulder and looked up to see Grandpa, who beamed and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m so, so proud of you, pumpkin,” he said.

“I didn’t get Jane,” she said, staring after Crocker.

“She didn’t want to let her go,” replied Grandpa. “Interesting, since Jane’s an adult woman, but I suppose even Betty has feelings somewhere in that blackened lump of a heart.” He squeezed her shoulder. “You did jolly well, and gave us a fine base to work from,” he said. “You should be proud of yourself.”

Jade was about to ask what their next move was, when there was a loud bark from across the room and a large mass of white fur came charging through the lobby, causing chaos.

“WHO LET THAT DOG IN HERE?” bellowed someone, but Jade was already crouching down to greet her best friend and companion.

“Good boy!” she said, ruffling his ears. “Did you get away from Jane? Did you? Did you come to find me?”

“Hello there, old chap,” said Grandpa, scratching Bec’s fur and accepting a long, lingering lick from the dog. “Good show. Let’s find someone to look after you, shall we?” He turned about until he spotted the cops. “Ah, there we go. Excuse me, my fine fellows- and lady, sorry ma’am- could you keep an eye on this rowdy hound while we go visiting? No, no, he’s quite well behaved, very good guard dog- right!” He turned back to Jade, dusting off his hands. “Now, where’s that boy of mine? Got to let him know that I’m jolly impressed with him and that if he ever gets himself nearly killed again I’ll tan that hide of his, and no matter how thick it is!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Wednesday 27th August.
> 
> So, an uneasy truce is reached. Because who's gonna believe a dangerous teenage alien over a nice little old lady slash baking magnate? I know you all wanted to see the Batterwitch get her comeuppance. But she is simply too wily for that! :)
> 
> Four chapters and three updates remain to this story. There will after that be a hiatus as I try to write the next one, since all my good plans were completely ruined by life and stuff! :/


	21. ==> Be The Ghost In The Labyrinth

### CHAPTER TWENTY ==> Be The Ghost In The Labyrinth

Aradia Megido paced around Sollux’s room, a task that would have been far harder if her feet hadn’t glided unimpeded through the scattered heaps of clothing and electronics that peppered the floor. Every time she passed through one of them, items scattered from it, blown away by a slight but unknowable force to roll off into new mounds elsewhere on the carpet.

“DV’th going to be pithed if he can’t find hith thtuff,” said Sollux, not looking around from his computer screens.

Aradia's eyes narrowing at the rumpled bed in the far corner. <Do you care?>

“Not really, but I thought you might.” Kicking off from his computer, Sollux spun around. “You two have been getting on better, right?”

<Sometimes,> Aradia admitted. With a small push, she slipped out of view and shifted herself over to Dave’s abandoned bed, reappearing sitting cross-legged on it. She could have walked over and sat down- probably should have, if Doctor Lalonde was to be believed- but flickering was _easier_ and she was in no mood to be pushing herself right now.  <Maybe. I don’t know.> She pouted, and flopped back onto a mattress she couldn’t feel. <Ugh.>

“Wanna talk about it?” asked Sollux. Aradia shrugged, and he spun back to focus on his monitors. Aradia watched him for a while, his face cast in sharp planes of light and shadow by the artificial glow. She could see the twin blue and red of his eyes, standing out all the more starkly against the otherwise black and white shades of her vision.

<Sometimes it all feels like it happened to someone else, like it’s a story I heard once,> she said, and Sollux paused again. He didn’t turn, but he didn’t have to; it was easier, in a way, to tell it all to his back. <I’m okay with everything then, but it’s like being numb. I can’t feel anything, even inside. And then other times, it’s like it only just happened a moment ago and I’m so _angry,_ Sollux. > She raised one of her hands and studied it. The translucent fingers shifted from long adolescent digits to short, chubby wiggler ones and back again. <And I’m scared, and I don’t understand anything, and it’s exhausting!>

Psionics flickered, and threads of light wrapped around her. She smiled, feeling the touch of Sollux’s mental arms as they gave her a gentle squeeze. “I know,” he said, and his voice sounded like someone had peeled a layer off it and left it open, raw and bleeding. Aradia flickered again, moving in an eyeblink from hovering on the bed to standing behind Sollux. He stiffened as she leaned over and hugged him, the faintest touch of maroon-red power squishing into his ribs.

Aradia held it for a few seconds then let go; she could feel the effort exhausting her, even though once she wouldn’t have thought twice about the gesture. Doctor Lalonde said that it was because she was using most of her psionic energy maintaining telepathic links, and that what telekinesis she had left was holding together the weakly-bound network of photons that was her “body”. However it worked, she felt as weak as an infant purrbeast.

Sollux’s hand, wreathed in lightning, came up to wrap around hers. He gave her a slightly sore smile, and she returned it. Poor Sollux. Everything he’d done for her, to try and make up for something that hadn’t been his fault to begin with…

Unfortunately, that thought reminded her of why she had been put out to begin with, and her frown came back. <I can’t believe they went to try and rescue _her! >_

Sollux had no trouble parsing her meaning. “Look, I know VK doethn’t detherve it, but they’re human and they have thith thing about rethcuing people. Ethpecially kidth. It’th thomething to do with being mammalth, probably.”

<Mammals are stupid,> said Aradia. Sollux snorted.

“Yeah, no argumenth here, but it’th the thame thing that meanth they’re buthting their buttth to get you ficthed tho I’m not gonna bitth about it too loud. I’ll leave that to KK, he’th a better bitth anyway.”

<Are you two talking again?> asked Aradia.

“Fucked if I know, latht time I thpoke to him he wath thmathed off hith fathe and whining about GZ.” Sollux shifted in his seat, and leaned into Aradia’s hand when she rested it on his shoulder. She squeezed it, taking a moment to share his worry. She’d never met Karkat, but she didn’t have to be personally acquainted with him to know that he was important to Sollux, and that he wasn’t doing well.

<Do you want me to check on Feferi?> she asked, and winced when Sollux pulled away from her grip.

“Will you quit fucking meddling? Fuck’th thake, AA, did you take lethonth from KN or thomething?”

<Wow, okay, sorry! Just trying to help!>

Sollux opened his mouth to retort, paused to frown, and then said: “Theriouthly? Becauthe there might be thomething you could do.”

<Sure!> said Aradia, drifting around so she was more directly in his eyeline. The monochrome light from the computer monitors shone through her, making her sparkle. She imagined she could feel it bouncing off her “body”. <If there’s anything I can do to make you okay, you know you can ask me.>

Sollux worried at his lower lip, biting off small strips of skin. “Can you- can you check on them?” he asked, cheeks flushing slightly darker with a yellow she couldn’t see. “It’th dumb, but I’ve jutht got thith really bad feeling, and TZ ith gonna be mitherable if CT dieth.”

Aradia swallowed. <Bad like _voices_ bad? >

Sollux shrugged. “I'm not thure yet. Could jutht be a bad feeling.”

She reached out and brushed a comforting, red-lined hand down his cheek. <I’ll check it out,> she said, and before he could say anything more she winked out of existence.

She was familiar with Cathy, but not over the length of Los Angeles. Fortunately she didn’t need to be. Aradia listened for the blazing beacon that was her most hated and most feared enemy, and let Vriska draw her like a magnet across the city. She coalesced in darkness, in a building that felt like wood and metal and the sea, and was greeted by a snort.

“What are _you_ doing here?” hissed a voice, and Aradia shimmered into view in front of Vriska Serket. Rather than reply straight away, she studied her foe: Vriska was cuffed and tied to a metal-framed chair, surrounded by crates that had been stacked to form a room of sorts. Even in black and white there were obvious bruises scattered across her face and arms, and her lip was puffy and bleeding.

"I'm talking to you!" snapped Vriska, good eye narrowing at Aradia. "Jeez, you might be all useless and asleep but you could at least pay attention!"

The world flickered red for a moment as Aradia struggled to keep hold on her presence through the anger. <You should ask Kyrane if I'm useless,> she said, remembering the leader of the gang who had kidnapped her. <I could send you to meet her.>

Vriska tilted her head and smirked. "You're not going to kill me," she said.

Between one blink and the next Aradia closed with her, hovering inside Vriska's space. <How can you be so certain?>

Vriska looked up at her and slowly smirked. "Because you're too much of a wuss," she said, every word dropping into place with a sort of smug triumph. Red light lashed out before Aradia could even think about it, flying from her fingertips and slamming into Vriska's cheek with a slap. Her head spun to the side with the momentum of the blow, and dark blood seeped out from four finger-spaced gashes. Her eye glittered as she turned her head back.

The sound of footsteps approaching broke the moment, and with a shudder of distaste Aradia reached out and anchored herself against Vriska's mind, fading from sight.

 _Wow, you're even dumber than I expected,_ Vriska thought to her, with a pointed push that rocked Aradia's sense of self ever so slightly. She braced for another attack, but then Vriska's attention turned to the gap in the crates and Aradia found herself looking at a man in a white suit as he walked up to the bound troll and stopped a few feet away from her.

"Miss Serket," he said, with a polite nod. "I hope that your captivity hasn't proven too discomforting since we last spoke."

To Aradia's surprise, Vriska spat at him but remained otherwise silent. The human neatly sidestepped the glob of blue spittle and briefly regarded it with an expression of disgust before turning back to her.

"Honestly, young lady, this would go far more simply if you would be cooperative," he said, his hands clasping behind his back. "I have been speaking to your mother, and as it turns out she has been remarkably amenable to seeing my point of view in exchange for your continued safety- which only proves my point, of course, but that is neither here nor there. Snowman is a valuable resource to our organization, and I am quite prepared to keep you in whatever level of comfort proves most advantageous to our goals."

Aradia could feel Vriska's scorn like a physical force; it was almost overwhelming. What she hadn't expected were the other emotions mixed into it. Fear was unexpected but not incongruous, a rippling undertow to the thought so faint that Aradia was certain Vriska could barely feel it. Over and around it and inside it, though, was the truly unexpected; hope. Vriska was trying to push it down, but the moment the man mentioned Snowman something inside her had reached out.

<So, you do care about something other than yourself,> said Aradia, a little too cutting to tease.

 _Who asked you?!_ thought Vriska in response. A brutal shove, fast and vicious like the words, sent Aradia reeling. Torn loose from her anchor, she flung herself outwards and gripped with all her might to the only other mind nearby.

It was like plunging into icy water. Aradia almost screamed out and caught herself just in time, remembering to stay small and silent in the mind of the stranger. As she sank into his subconscious, she revised her initial impression; he wasn't like water at all, he was like slime- thick and cloying and full of muffled nightmares.

And eyes, she realized, as she felt a faint wave of curiosity, a flutter of puzzlement at the echoes of her feelings in his mind. She couldn't stay here long; as soon as he had nothing else to distract him he would notice she was there, and something about this man made her certain that she didn't want to find out what happened after that.

"Now, my dear, you know that it doesn't have to be this way," the man said, crouching down in front of Vriska in a gesture that Aradia could tell was pure calculation. "If you would cooperate-"

Vriska laughed, wild whooping howls without even a hint of concern to them. "Pfft, yeah, right! How many times do I have to explain this to you?" Her teeth shone under the dim light overhead as she leaned down towards the human's face. Aradia had a clear view of her face, older than she remembered it and yet wearing the same smug expression. "I'm not a loser. I don't need to cooperate with anyone."

Aradia saw Vriska's mental fingers reach out, a flash of blue that started in her eye and spread out as a grasping mist, flowing into the man though his nose and mouth and ears and the pores in his skin. It grew into him like roots, and Aradia bit back on fear that would have set her blood-pusher racing, if she had one that she could feel. Cool cerulean locked in around her like a cage, pressing in on her host's mind.

And then he pushed back, and the fingers shattered. Aradia heard Vriska grunt aloud, and felt the faint echo of pain thrumming along the fading strings of the highblood's power.

"I thought we were done with these futile displays," said the man, sounding vaguely disappointed. Aradia tried to see what he was feeling under the words, and was met with a smooth wall of marble that blocked her from his thoughts. "Need I remind you, I am hardly as weak-willed as those unfortunate employees of mine that you have been dealing with."

"You can't keep it up forever," said Vriska, her eyes tracking him as he stepped back from her.

"Neither can you," he said. "And I can assure you, Miss Serket, that I am quite experienced in not being the first to fold." He adjusted his cufflinks. "So, now that we have greeted one another, perhaps we could engage in a more civilized discussion? I am quite interested in the potential applications of your ability. Perhaps some experiments with a variety-"

He broke off as something by his hip crackled like burning leaves. "Doc," said a voice, and Aradia followed his gaze as it switched from Vriska to his radio. "Something's up. Antonio and Bryce missed checking in, and they aren't answering our calls."

"Understood," said the man, in response to the radio. "Call everyone back to the key guard points. I'll be there presently." He turned back to Vriska and inclined his head. "I do apologize, my dear, but I'm afraid I will have to leave you to your own devices for a while. It seems I have some unexpected visitors to greet, and it wouldn't do to keep them waiting."

 _I am an excellent host,_ he thought, the words amplified by a practiced groove in his mind that made Aradia shudder to feel. There was something deeply wrong in there, something hideous and ugly covered by a veneer of civility. Part of her was tempted to jump back to Vriska now that there would be no-one to see their argument, but the rest of her overrode the impulse. Sollux had a bad feeling, and now this man was going to see to some unexpected visitors. She had to see how this played out.

He had hardly gone more than a dozen paces before she worked out that the crates formed a maze of sorts. If she had possessed hands of her own, she would have been rubbing them together in glee- a maze? Really? She'd been solving labyrinths before she was three sweeps old, a maze was nothing. Trying to remember the route by sight would be too hard, especially with her vision so grayed out. Instead she counted steps, adding rights and lefts every time he turned. It wasn't a map in her mind, it was a list, a song of their progress and a simple one at that. No traps, no monstrous guardians, no fallen rubble to be moved aside. If this had been a FLARP dungeon, she would have been very disappointed!

Their journey lasted less than two minutes before they stepped out into another clear area, this one full of aliens. They were a strange group; all of them were dressed like the ordinary people Aradia had seen on the city streets, whenever she could coax Sollux to step outside so she could look at this new world through his eyes, but none of them looked like they belonged together. Some of them were in uniforms like security guards and some of them looked homeless and some of them were slouching around in torn jeans and hoodies, and the only thing they all had in common were the guns and radios they were holding.

They straightened as her host arrived into their circle, and one man stepped forward. "No sign of them yet, Doc," he said.

The man whose mind she was clutching onto nodded. "I shouldn't expect there will be," he said. "Dobbs, Holden, you and Suarez stay here and guard the entrance. The rest of us are going to greet our unexpected guests."

They fell in around him smoothly- too smoothly, they had practiced this. Aradia made herself as small and as quiet as she could and drifted with them to the warehouse door. Outside, it was growing darker, and all she could see were the dim frontages of other storage facilities, long and low and so quintessentially alien.

The man's eyes adjusted to the shadows fast, far faster than Aradia's would have done, but she still thought she would have seen better on her own. Not just because of her trollish night vision, but because according to Doctor Lalonde whatever psionics she used to pull the light to herself worked to let her see more clearly than her natural eyes would have allowed. Aradia had to admit that the sheer amount of data the woman was learning about the nature of her powers was impressive.

The human's eyes weren't just sensitive to light and shadow, and it was a flicker of motion where there should have been none that drew his attention. Keeping his head facing just away from the rusted hulk of some manner of package transporting vehicle, he turned his body to hide one hand from the shadows behind it and made a gesture in that direction. Aradia felt him count the numbers off in his head as he did it on his fingers; three, two, one...

The armed thugs all turned and opened fire at once. The Doc's fingers were pressed against his ears before first shot even sounded, but Aradia could still feel the damage the cacophony was doing, a second-hand sensation that was nearly overwhelming. She reeled, and the next thing she knew they were walking forwards, the nearest men ceasing to fire and trusting in the noise of their weapons to keep the defenders' heads down.

It worked; the moment the gunfire died off, the familiar face of one Detective Matt Sikes popped out from behind the vehicle, gun in hand. He was brought up short by the Doc's gun, pointed directly at his face.

"Good evening, Detective," said the man, with a smile. "How nice of you to visit." He made a gesture with his free hand. "Bring them. Alive if you can, but I am not particular."

He watched, and so did Aradia by proxy, as Sikes, Francisco, Roxy and Cathy were all roughly seized and dragged out into the open. As soon as they were secured the Doc turned his back and started walking back to the warehouse. It occurred to Aradia that she had a new option open, and releasing her hold on his mind she jumped back into the mind of Doctor Roxy Lalonde.

<Excuse me,> she said, and winced when the woman stiffened slightly. <No, don't! They mustn't know I'm here.>

 _Aradia?_ asked the woman, recovering admirably and stumbling along with a shove from one of her captors. _What're you doing here, sweetie?_

<Sollux had a feeling,> Aradia told her. <And it looks like he was right! You're all in trouble!>

 _You gotta get out of here,_ Roxy said. _Call the police and tell them to send help-_

"Move it!" snapped the man behind her, giving her a shove between the shoulder blades that sent her stumbling. Cathy caught Roxy before she could fall, and Matt cast a furious glare back at the thug. Aradia got the impression that only the man's raised gun stopped the cop from trying to attack the thug there and then.

"Now, now," said the Doc, stepping back into the full warehouse. "That's no way to treat our guests..."

He got no further, as Detective Francisco lunged sideways and sent the nearest man sprawling. Matt- Aradia didn't want to think of him as Sikes, she rather liked him- pushed both scientists' heads down then followed his partner's lead, tackling a man. There was a deafening crack as a gun went off, but the shot was wild and wood splinters rained down. Roxy ducked and tried to scramble out of the way, in the middle of a melee of feet.

 _Get out of here!_ she thought, and Aradia had no objections. Letting go of Roxy, she let her mind rise above the fight and was saddened but not surprised to see both Detectives getting piled into submission. The world faded to black and white again- except, she noted in surprise, for a trail of brilliant blue oozing out of the bullet-hole in the crate. Then the distant call of her flesh became too strong to resist, and she was flying back, snapping into herself once again and vanishing into darkness.

Precious time was lost hovering over the abyss and waiting was agonizing, but she was an old hand at this and knew that to push herself would achieve nothing. She waited until she could push away from the gravity well dragging her inwards, and rocketed up and into Sollux’s thoughts.

<They’re in danger!> she told him, words tumbling out the moment their minds touched. <The man who’s holding Vriska caught them, too. I don’t think we have long.>

“I’ll tell the copth,” said Sollux, already reaching out for his keyboard. A new window appeared on the left-hand screen and he typed rapidly; text and images flickered past too quickly for Aradia to understand. Her attention wandered and fixed back on the other screen, on a Pesterchum conversation that was hovering unfinished. Seeing who the other participant was, she felt- well, not jealous, exactly. More like a small flutter of fear, and guilt. Sollux had never wanted her and Feferi in the same quadrant, but they had ended up in competition after all and given the results, the Heiress was one person she had never been able to bring herself to speak to.

CC: I suppose I thought I s)(oald S)(-ELL you, at least.   
CC: I KNOW you still worry aboat us, even if it IS a bait... w)(ale, you know.   
TA: yeah   
TA: ii get iit   
TA: thank2 ii gue22   
CC: You GU--ESS? 38(   
TA: ff giiven what you ju2t told me iit2 an iiron-clad 2ubjug miiracle that iim not fliippiing my 2hiit already   
TA: ii don’t know whether ii want two 2cream and break thiing2   
TA: or 2camper around the room liike a complete fuckiing tool wiith a biig iidiiot griin on my face   
TA: 2o yeah ii fuckiing gue22 ok   
CC: Just make S)(OR---E you tell the Detecdives aboat the ware)(ouse!   
TA: ye2 bad guy2 with weiird blue goo   
TA: ii got iit   
CC: Don’t act like I’m carping on at you for the )(ALIBUT!!   
CC: I just want to be C--ERTUN that you’ll S)(--ELL t)(em!!!   
CC: Sollux?   
CC: SOL---ELLUX CAPTOR YOU HAD B-----ETTA NOT B-----E IGNORING M----------E!!!!

Aradia winced. It looked like she was going to be calming Sollux down or cheering him up later; he was always a mess when he and Feferi started arguing, and it just made her more and more reluctant to interact with the seadweller. Then a memory caught up with her and connected to the words in front of her eyes, and if she had possessed breath she would have gasped.

<Sollux!> She didn’t bother with the polite subtlety of words, just dumped the images straight into his thinkpan: a snap of the words “weiird blue goo” in his own color and quirk, and her own last glimpse of the warehouse she had just left, gel that glowed blue even to her eyeless sight seeping from a broken crate.

He stiffened, and in a few swift keystrokes finished his message. Somewhere in the far distance Aradia was sure that the police computers were going at least a little haywire, but in the moment she was living the two of them were running out of the respite block and down the stairs. Aradia was so present that she could feel herself wrapped around Sollux, and she was certain that anyone looking would see the same reddish aura that she did. They passed through the kitchen at a run and narrowly avoided careening into the pool. Outside it was bright, eye-wateringly so, but Sollux for once didn’t even seem to notice. Aradia flickered ahead to the group sitting on blankets on the grass, startling most of them and puzzling Terezi.

“What?” asked the blind girl, frowning as she turned her head between the slowly-relaxing Dave and the shattered teacup of a large troll that Aradia didn’t recognize. He had a broken horn, a deep blue symbol, and the sort of muscles that you didn’t often see in real life even on humans. Despite it being entirely and totally the wrong time for it, she was intrigued.

“Um, Aradia just, uh, joined us?” said Tavros, looking more composed than the rest of the group. Aradia took a moment to be proud of her friend; she had always known he could be more confident in himself! She looked down at her form; in the sunlight, it seemed more insubstantial than usual.

“Oh, hi there,” said Terezi, looking into thin air and seeming perturbed by her inability to detect Aradia. Her nose twitched and she smiled in relief, turning towards Sollux who was approaching at speed. “Mr Appleberry Blast!”

“Dude,” said Dave, as Sollux came running up and stopped, panting, at the edge of the blanket. “Some people were not meant to run. You need to get a license for that shit before you put someone's eye out with your elbow.”

Sollux leaned on the back of Tavros' chair, still huffing for breath. “Thut up, Thtrider. Thith ith- thith ith important.”

Terezi's cane jabbed at him and Aradia's eyes flared for a moment before she saw that no harm was meant. “Well, out with it, then!” said the teal-blooded girl. “I see no reason for delay!”

“AA hath newth you're going to want to hear,” said Sollux, snarling in frustration. Aradia could see the pressure of the soon-to-be-dead pushing behind his eyes. All their gazes swiveled towards her, and she gave a small nod of agreement.

“Sollux, what has happened?” asked the other human present- Rose, her name was Rose. Aradia had to remember.

“It'th your guardianth,” said Sollux. “They went to find Vrithka. They're going to die thoon. Now do you want to thut up and lithten already?”

“That does at least seem sufficiently exacting to warrant this interruption,” the large troll with the broken teacup grumbled, and Aradia immediately revised her estimate. Yes to the muscles, big urgh! to the personality!

“What the fuck happened?” asked Dave, tensing almost imperceptibly.

“AA wath jutht checking up on the detectiveth, Doctor Frankel and Roxthy,” said Sollux, not bothering to keep his voice low. There was no-one at the house to overhear them. “They’ve been captured by the guy who took Vrithka.”

There was a clatter from the other side of Dave as Terezi dropped her plate. Aradia watched her warily. She knew what Sollux had told her, but the last she knew from her own experience Terezi and Vriska had been a team and a dangerous one at that.

“Have you contacted the authorities?” Rose asked, setting down her own plate with careful precision and then nudging it slightly into place with one finger.

“Yeth,” snapped Sollux. “What do you take me for, a fucking idiot?”

“Of course not,” Rose replied. “I merely wished to ascertain that the prudent course of action had been taken.”

“That's it?” Dave started to scramble to his feet. Terezi caught his sleeve.

“She's already gone, Dave,” she said. “And we don't know where.”

<Actually, we do know where to find them!> said Aradia. Everyone jumped a little, and she took the opportunity to drift over to Sollux's side. She didn’t miss the way that everyone but Terezi flinched back from her.

“I want to go,” said the blind girl, fingers wrapping tight around her cane.

“Go and do what, ‘Rezi?” said Dave. His expression was unreadable but the ocular shading accessories on his face were turned firmly towards Aradia. “Remember last time we went charging in like we were General Custer? Got our horses shot out from under us and damn near ended up scalped and tied to the totem pole. Fuck that noise.”

A slim white cane slammed into his chest, sending him sprawling back. “Are you suggesting we should just leave them there?” asked Terezi, her voice icy cold. Behind her, Tavros’ face had frozen, and it was only through knowing him so well that Aradia could pick up on the slight curl of his fingers and the jut of his fangs.

“Dave, this is our parents, that you are saying, we should leave.”

Dave propped himself up on his elbows. “I’m saying I don't just want to run into this! You think I don’t want to be the big damn hero? Shit, even if Mom wasn't walking straight into it I’d want to be there for you guys. But we gotta be realistic here.” Clambering to his feet, he laid one hand across Terezi’s, and looked over her shoulder towards Tavros. “We nearly died last time. We got so fucking lucky to survive and I am not gonna flip off Lady Luck then ask her to keep our collective ass from becoming grass.”

“If it maketh any differenthe, I think it’th the thame fuckatheth that framed your Bro,” said Sollux.

Dave stiffened, then turned slowly. “Unless you have one hell of an ace in the hole, I don’t see it makes any difference except that you’re a massive fucking dick.”

“You thure you’re not related to KK?”

There was a deep, low rumble from nearby, which Aradia abruptly realized to be the large, _not that attractive really_ troll clearing his throat. “As it happens,” he said with only a hint of hesitation, “I do happen to have something that might be of assistance in such an attempt.”

Rose raised an eyebrow, and beside her Kanaya frowned. “What might that be, Equius?” she asked.

“Something I have been building for Vriska as a favor,” Equius replied. “I believe that if I were to utilize it in rescuing her, all debts between us would be considered paid.”

The smile that crossed Rose’s face was positively glacial. “Pray,” she said, a little too gleefully for comfort, _“Do tell.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Thursday 4th September.
> 
> SHIT. IS. GOING. DOWN.


	22. ==> Be The Punk In The Nightmare

### CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE ==> Be The Punk In The Nightmare

Karkat Vantas felt it from the other end of the street. A suffocating wave of psychic pressure crushed him, a weight of soul-deep dread that hissed in his auricular sponge clots and tickled the back of his neck with its laughter. His arms wrapped around his thorax without any conscious input from his thinkpan, doing nothing to ward off the icy chill seeping into his flesh.

“Pull over,” he whispered, forcing the words out past the knot where his blood-pusher should have been. Callie swerved towards the kerb and slammed on the brakes like she’d just been waiting for an excuse. If Karkat’s horns had been any kind of respectable length, they would have crashed into the windscreen. Looking around the car, he could see that the humans were feeling it too. Callie and Haley were both pale and shaking, Cody kept twitching and looking over his shoulder, and John…

_Oh, fuck._

“Haley, you need to get Egbert out of here,” said Karkat, his eyes fixed on the shuddering ball of silent panic that was his human brother. “Haley- HALEY! Listen to me when I’m giving you important, sanity-preserving orders, you incompetent botchmuffin!”

“Shut the fuck up, Vantas,” said the girl, her voice holding a sharp, brittle edge. Laying her hands on each of John’s shoulders, she tried to look into his face. “John? Baby, talk to me. You gotta tell me what’s wrong.”

Karkat wrenched his seatbelt off and swiveled around in the chair. “What’s wrong is that he’s got cracks in his thinkpan and this sticky morass of psionic nightmare that we are wallowing in is prying them into wide open chasms,” he said. “Now get him the fuck away from here before he falls down one of them, because I do not want to deal with an insane Egbert on top of-“

He was cut off by the sudden hum of the engine and the car lurching backwards. He grabbed for the headrest and managed not to injure himself as Callie spun the car around and, speed limit lying in shattered fragments all around them, drove back a block in what had to be record time. Their stop was almost as abrupt as the previous one and Karkat ended up with his butt wedged against the dashboard.

“What the hell!?” he shouted, on principle.

“Sorry!” said Callie, pulling her hands off the wheel like it was suddenly red-hot. “But you were upset about John and I was under the impression it might help!”

“Think it helped me,” said Cody, a little shakily. “What the fuck, man? That was like, walking into a bad trip.”

“Wow, congratulations on your awesome perception skills there, fuckhead,” said Karkat. He wriggled off the dashboard and leaned into the back of the car, face hovering near John’s. “Hey, Egbert, you still flipping your shit?”

John’s face peeked up at him, pale and wet with clear human tears but wearing a shaky smile. “Kinda,” he said. “I’m sorry guys. I was just remembering when I was- I was remembering something bad.”

“Yeah, that’ll happen,” said Karkat, slumping back and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, we can officially upgrade this situation from _Gamzee might flip his shit any time_ to _Gamzee’s shit is flipped like a motherfucking pancake._ Those were some nuclear-grade chucklevoodoos we just walked face-first into; after all the pan damage he’s given himself I didn’t even realize he was capable of that kind of projection.”

Cody raised his hand slightly and wiggled his fingers. “Question, buddy,” he said. “What’s chucklevoodoos?”

Karkat glared at him. “Chucklevoodoos is the closest English translation for the word used to describe the particular brand of fucked-up psionics that indigo-bloods get, not that it conveys the full sphincter-clenching horror of the original phrasing.” Seeing a forest of blank looks, he slapped himself in the forehead. “And of course none of you fuckers ever bothered to actually check up on anything to do with trolls before you started infecting us with your human family disease.” He pointed a finger at Cody. “You. You pulled him into your fucking messed-up three-person quadrant collision without even _knowing?”_

Cody pulled back into his seat a little, shoulders rolling forward. “We told him to shout up if there was anything we needed to know…” his voice trailed off. “Except Gamzee don’t like to talk about bad shit.” He dug his fingers into his hair. “Damn.”

Grudgingly, Karkat admitted to himself that maybe the human wasn’t completely and irredeemably awful in _every_ possible way. “Yeah, well, you’re doing better than I did the first time,” he admitted, not making eye contact with anyone. “I had the whole glorious technicolor cultural background required to see it coming and it still blindsided me. I’m going to assume you’re all completely oinkbeast ignorant and give you the fastest gogdamn schoolfeeding of your lives. Pay attention or I will have no sympathy when your pathetic asses get culled.”

“Culled?” repeated Hayley, with a small smirk.

“Yes, culled!” Karkat snapped back. “You think I’m exaggerating? Well, fuck you, because you weren’t there the first time the shit hit the fan, causing the fan to shatter into pieces and turn into an elegant airborne ballet of high-velocity shit-coated shrapnel. You think that little flash in the pan of abject terror back there was bad, you try it after escaping the middle of a fucking riot! Try it after spending hours hiding in the worst-maintained service passages in the history of space travel, trying not to breathe in case the noise echoes! Try it while you’re wading ankle-deep through pools of blood or stepping over pieces of people so you can find your best fucking friend half a second away from murdering everyone else you give a shit about because he's gone completely shithive maggots and thinks it’s _funny!”_

The humans were all looking at him, their mouths hanging open, and Karkat managed to slam his own feedhole shut- too fucking late, because his claws had already punctured the headrest and now they knew.

Beside him, Callie took in a small, sharp breath. “Did- did you really do all that?”

Karkat considered lying. Briefly. “Yes,” he said, and it came out as a low rasp more than a word. “And so did Gamzee, do you understand? I stopped him before he could kill our friends but there were a dozen dismembered bodies down there and _no-one else around._ What he’s doing now, the chucklevoodoos- it’s fearmongering, waking horrorterror visions delivered direct into your thinkpan, and even though he should technically be able to control it like any other bullshit psychic power, he’s fucked his own head up enough that it only leaks out when he’s unstable.” Karkat paused, and rubbed a hand over his face before adding. “I have to go in there.”

The outcry was immediate; Karkat rolled his eyes and shrugged Callie’s hand off his shoulder.

“Karkat, it’s too dangerous!” she said. John nodded furious agreement.

“Staying out here isn’t much safer,” Karkat replied. “If Gamzee’s having a full-blown meltdown, then he’s stronger than all of us put together, sneakier than a seven-foot tall clown has any right to be, virtually immune to such petty concerns as _pain_ and _life-threatening injuries,_ and wants every last living soul on this planet dead in no particular order.”

“Well, you should at least let us go with you!” said John.

“Speak for yourself,” said Haley, her arm still wrapped around his shoulder. “No offense, but I vote for leaving. Fast.”

“No way,” said Cody. His ropes of hair swung around as he shook his head. “I swore to Jenna that if she ever got in any bad shit again I’d pull her out of it, and whatever Gamz’s going through or what he’s done, I ain’t just gonna give up on him if there’s a chance he’s coming back. I am _not_ leaving them like this.”

Karkat sighed. “No,” he said, and when the protests started again: “NO! For fuck’s sake, have you not been listening to a word I said? Gamzee is fucking _omnicidal_ and the only person who has ever been exempted from that is me! He doesn’t need his matesprit or his brother or his friends, he needs a _moirail,_ and that’s my job!”

“You broke up,” said Callie, quietly.

“I’ve still got to try,” said Karkat, turning to look at her. Her eyes seemed huge at this distance, although he knew it had to be an illusion because humans had tiny eyes, really. “We fucked up, I’ll admit it, but I still pity the shit out of him and I hope to fuck he feels the same because otherwise I’m going to end up as a fine smear of grubpaste.”

“So let us help,” said Cody.

“How?” Karkat demanded. “By getting in his line of sight and getting subjuggulated into the afterlife? By giving me someone else to worry about while I try to calm his tits?” He flicked a hand towards John. “By breaking down under the weight of the chucklevoodoos and becoming a basket case? You want to help, call the cops and tell them to bring a fucking tank in case I don’t make it.” He reached out for the door handle, and was brought up short by Callie’s hand around his wrist.

“I can do that,” she said, and kissed him.

It wasn’t a long kiss, or even a particularly sloppy one; just a bob forwards and a pair of lips pressed up against his own. Karkat’s bloodpusher nearly stopped, and as Callie sat back- already turning bright pink- his lips tingled where she had touched them.

“For luck,” she said, pulling out her cellphone without even looking. “Now go!”

Karkat glanced over at John, who nodded and made shooing motions, then dove out of the car and started running up the street. Hearing footsteps behind him, he stopped and turned to see Cody approaching.

“Go back and stay in the car!” he yelled. The human snorted, strolling up to and then past him.

“Sorry, dude,” he said, teeth clenched inside his jaw. “I believe you and I trust you and all, but... I _promised_ Jenna I’d always come get her, you dig me?”

 _Always and forever, bro._ Karkat sighed, and started jogging to keep up with the taller teen. “Fine, but you stay away from him and let me handle it, and if it looks like I can’t, you run, got it?”

“Clear as crystal, Kar,” said Cody, then he gasped. “Woah. Back in the zone.”

Karkat’s nose wrinkled as the first drifting grasp of horror brushed against his thinkpan. “Just remember it’s not real.”

Cody brightened a little. “Does that help?”

“Not even fucking slightly.” Karkat peered down the street. “Which house?”

Cody pointed, and Karkat set off at a jog. It made it easier to get through the ‘voodoos, as long as he was fooling himself into thinking that he was running away and not towards. His blood-pusher was still pounding with panic when he reached the right building, his breath coming in short gasps from more than just the exercise. He was secretly, silently glad when Cody stopped next to him. The tall, warm presence of the human was like a buffer against the cackling cold that was forcing its bony fingers into his thoughts.

All the hives around them were dark and silent, none of them waking up with the morning sun. Karkat wasn’t sure what effect chucklevoodoos this strong had on sleeping humans, but he was willing to bet that the local therapists were going to be earning enough to make a dragon jealous soon enough. The hive in front of them looked more or less the same as its neighbors. Mostly more, but the pale purplish glow shining out through the curtains was a very large “less”.

Karkat’s jaw ached, and his teeth ground so close together that he could taste blood where they tore the inside of his lip. He spared a glance up at Cody and shivered; a face that looked alien at the best of times looked eerie now, eyes a stark contrast of wide-blown black and white and lips standing out unnaturally red against blanched brown skin.

“Ready?” he asked, unable to keep the nervous chirr out of his words. He could feel fingers crawling up his back, and there was soft chuckling at the edge of his hearing.

“Hell, no,” said Cody, voice faint, but he took a step forwards and gave the front door a gentle push. Karkat was not even slightly reassured when it swung open at the human's touch, and not just because he’d been secretly hoping to kick it open like a badass. This felt too much like they were being invited in, and the word _lair_ would not stop hovering in the vicinity like a parasitic stingbug.

The door opened into a hall, dark and dank and crackling with so much evil intent that Karkat was certain he’d developed Terezi’s sense of smell. Taking a deep breath, he ducked past Cody and stepped inside, rolling his steps so that they were silent on the stained carpet underfoot. The not-sound of laughing grew- not _louder,_ but more _everywhere._ Karkat took another step into the alien hive-

_corneredthreatenedhuntedRUN!_

-and fell back against the wall, feeling his own pulse in the fingers he pressed against the soft, peeling paper. There was a shadow in the door frame behind him; he knew it was Cody, was aware of the human as a factual recollection, but what he saw was a clawed ghast that bent over itself in hideous agony before arching over him with twisted arms and death-stained skin. Karkat bolted; the hallway twisted under his feet and he lurched from side to side, the world fracturing in carnival lights and indigo shadow, the air he was sucking into his respiration tubes tasting of a laugh that sounded more like a breaking scream. There were voices in the silence, whispering into his thinkpan, and the formless susurrus started to take on words with the rhythm of Karkat’s blood-pusher.

_they left you all alone again_

_ALL ALONE AND LOST IN HERE_

_alone afraid just like old times_

_AS BEFITS A MUTANT FREAK_

_you’re here for life too late to leave_

_YOU’RE HERE TO DIE AND WHO WILL GRIEVE_

Karkat didn’t realize his hands were over his ears until he felt something trickle down the side of his head. Dropping his arms, he stared uncomprehending at claws tipped in red blood. He glanced around and stifled a scream; there were bodies on the floor, still and silent and hungry, and he froze so that they wouldn’t think to grasp for him.

_will you let it end like this_

_MEWLING LIKE A FUCKING GRUB_

_if you’re a monster act like it_

_YOU KNOW YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO_

One of his hands reached out and closed around something long and wooden: a bat. He lifted it, felt the weight as it swung through the air. For a few fractions of a second the nightmares scattered before it but they reformed fast; Karkat clutched his weapon like a talisman, raising it to ward off foes, and crept forwards through a portal that glowed with indigo light. None of the waiting monsters around him moved.

_not yet at least_

_DON’T TURN YOUR BACK_

The room was a wreck, the furniture broken and scattered, the floor a minefield of shattered glass and dark, damp pools. The indigo light was so strong that Karkat’s eyes watered, and he almost missed the hunched shadow in the far corner that stared at him with baleful eyes.

“Hey, brother,” said the shadow, its voice a raw whisper that rose to a hysterical roar. “NICE OF YOU TO MOTHERFUCKING JOIN US!”

Karkat scrambled back, but his foot landed in a broken bowl of slimy goop and sent him crashing to the floor. His hand slammed into a sharp, hard corner and he dropped his weapon. With a panicked trill he scrabbled after it, howling laughter ringing in his auricular sponge clots, until a low, pained moan made him freeze. Slowly, he turned his head towards the sound, and the ragged panting of his breath stilled completely when he saw the torn mess of flesh and blood lying across the remains of a small, low table. Blood spiraled around the ruined human in deliberate patterns, and his hands were pinned to the table with knives.

Karkat clenched his hands reflexively; it was a mistake. In a flash the shadow in the corner had crossed the intervening space and was pinning him to the wall, a hand locked around his throat like a steel collar. Karkat struggled and kicked at his captor, a skeletal jumble of bones and hair that was _still fucking laughing._ There were wisps of indigo power pouring off the revenant, curling away like candle-smoke from its horns, and Karkat stared at them with clenching guts because whatever was happening here, it wasn’t natural.

“Look who’s come to play with us,” said the creature. It sounded wigglerish, joyful even, but Karkat wasn’t fooled. Its eyes glowed a steady furious red, shot through with lines of unnatural neon purple. “ADD HIS VOICE TO THE RIGHTEOUS SCREAMS OF THE MOTHERFUCKING CARNIVAL.”

Karkat tried to pull back as the creature leaned in, but he was pressed against a fucking wall and there was nowhere to run to. Its face pressed into his collarbone and teeth scraped against his skin and Karkat let out a breathless whimper because fuck, fuck, fuck, it was going to _eat him…_

Wiry hair brushed against his jaw and somehow in the middle of the nightmare it felt safe and cool with pity. Shocked by the dissonance, Karkat focused on his attacker, and like the pieces of a puzzle falling into place he suddenly saw Gamzee.

There was no time for caution or hesitancy; Karkat stopped clawing at the hands locked around his throat and reached into Gamzee’s thicket of hair. His fingers found hornbeds before the other troll could react and he pressed down, hard. Gamzee went limp, and with a loud clatter they both fell to the floor.

Karkat rubbed small circles into the nerve cluster without thinking, thumb on autopilot as he searched Gamzee’s face, and body tensed ready to jump back at the first sign of attack. It was a dick move, a serious violation of basically everything, but Karkat couldn't make himself regret it. Not when the only other option had been to have his throat ripped out.

“I hate you,” he said, eerily calm and staring straight into a face that was twisted with silent, lethargic fury. “Did you know that? I fucking loathe you, diseased gaper-scrapings that you are, blacker than the deepest and most empty reaches of the cosmos. If I found your hideous scrawny carcass in the least bit attractive I would flip quadrants on you in a heartbeat and I’m fucking certain you feel the same.”

He paused to drag Gamzee over to the wall, propping them both up against it and each other. The other troll's head lolled onto his shoulder; Karkat kept one hand in Gamzee's hair, wrapped tight around his horn.

“If I had any fucking sense at all I’d leave you for the cops to shoot,” he said. “Do you even- do you have any fucking clue what it does to me, being your moirail? When it was just the two of us and I didn’t have anyone else then it was worth it, but now I’m not sure what I get out of it apart from pan-aches and misery. Only you obviously get that too, because why the fuck else would you dump my sorry ass then run off to stuff yourself silly on whatever toxic shit you’ve been shoveling down your feed chute.”

Gamzee growled, and Karkat reached out with his free hand to pap at the other troll’s face.

“Shoosh, you clownfucked moron. I’m not leaving you for the cops, and I’m not flipping quadrants on you.” He sighed and leaned over, resting his head on Gamzee’s shoulder. “I pity you too much for that, human God fucking help us both, and we are going to make this shit work if it is the _last thing I do._ Which it well might be, but fuck it. All I know for sure is that I don’t want to see you dead or completely out-of-your-clown-car crazy, and at this point we can safely declare this half-assed experiment in separation as a complete and abject failure on that front.”

Gamzee moaned and, as Karkat’s grip on his horn grew gentler, curled up around his knees shaking and twitching with every flare of power that peeled off his body. The purple light in the room was dimmer, but Karkat could still feel the oppressive terror pushing down on his pan. He wasn’t certain which was helping him hold it back more; the fact that he had been exposed to it so often in the past, or the fact that he was completely fucking steel-spitting _furious._

Hearing the shape of a whisper, he sighed heavily. “You’ll have to speak louder, shitmaggot,” he said, not nearly as calmly or as confidently as he wanted to. It did the trick, though, because Gamzee’s next mutterings were audible.

“…m’k ‘t st’p…” His moirail shivered, a violent tremor that passed through every part of him and drifted out of his horns as psychic vapor. “M-make’t stop, bro… pl’s… I d’n’t…”

Karkat took a deep, juddering breath. “Shoosh,” he whispered, twisting at an awkward angle to wrap his other arm around Gamzee and resigning himself to a sore back later. His fingers ran up into Gamzee’s hair, tracking along the hornbeds without pressing too far. As much as Karkat wanted to do that, he had already blown past that boundary once and there was no way to tell how the rush of natural endorphins interacted with whatever the fuck was messing up Gamzee’s head. Instead he papped and he petted and he shooshed and he buried his face in Gamzee’s hair so he didn’t have to look and see the mess in the room, or think too hard about the way the air smelled- like the school ablution block and something else, sweet and metallic.

That was where the cops found them, eons later, and by that time the unnatural light had faded and the overwhelming sense of impending mirthful destruction was nothing more than an unpleasant edge in the air. It was still hostile enough that Karkat didn’t question the guns that were pointed at them, or the roughness with which they were grabbed and hauled outside. He felt exhausted, hollowed out and stretched thin, and he had to force himself to mumble words in response to the questions he was being asked. He couldn’t remember exactly what he said, or how he got away with literally snapping at the ambulance crew who prodded him to check for injuries. He and Gamzee were handcuffed and draped with blankets and sat in the back of a van under the watchful eye of a policewoman, and the next thing that was clear in his mind was the sight of Mister Egbert approaching from across a small encampment of emergency vehicles.

“Hello there, Karkat.” His human father crouched down in front of them and nodded to the bundled shape under the blanket. “Gamzee.” He tapped the stem of his pipe against his lower lip. “I am very, very glad to see that you are both alive and in one piece.”

Karkat peeked up at him from between dangling locks of hair. “Am I under arrest?” he asked.

“Yes,” Egbert replied, frankly. He studied Karkat over his pipe. “On the plus side, John is doing a stellar job of telling the boys and girls in blue all about your heroism. While they’ll want to ask you some more questions, I expect it will be as a witness.”

Karkat nodded minutely, staring at his knees, and forced himself to ask the question he was really dreading. “Is Gamzee under arrest?”

Egbert’s lips pursed. “Also yes, and I'm afraid the outlook is particularly grim on that front. One of the men in the house was dead- King, I believe they said. The other is in critical condition, and both young ladies have had to be sedated.” He sighed, tapping his lip with the pipe-stem again. “Despite young mister Cody's spirited arguments in Gamzee's defense, I'm afraid the police take a very dim view of that sort of thing.” He glanced over his shoulder, and Karkat followed the motion to see a very familiar group around a nearby ambulance. Haley was nowhere to be seen, but Jenna was lying pale and unconscious on a stretcher; Cody had his hand wrapped around hers, watching as Callie and John debated fiercely with a nearby cop.

Despite everything, it felt good to know that they were all alive. Karkat turned his attention back to Egbert who acknowledged him with a nod.

“That said,” Egbert continued, “I have contacted our lawyer, and she says that we are to make no comment and she will be here as soon as practicable.” He took a puff on his pipe and nodded amicably to the watching policewoman. Karkat said nothing, staring down at his cuffed wrists. He wasn't sure what scared him more at that moment; what the human courts would think, or what Egbert might.

“So,” said his lusus, a little more sternly. “What happened here, boys? Because I thought we were past the point of me getting phone calls from law enforcement.”

Karkat shrugged, a tiny motion that was closer to a flinch. Egbert sighed and, with a glance towards the policewoman, reached out and gave him a paternal pat on the arm. His other hand stretched out and pressed against the blanket-wrapped lump that was Gamzee. It stirred slightly, and an eye peeked out from the shadows.

“Karkat, Gamzee,” said Egbert gently. “Boys. You know that I am not going to give up on you or give you up, not for anything, but this terrifies me. All three of my sons were missing tonight, and then they show up at a drug den, one of them the suspect in a murder investigation? I know that your culture doesn’t have parents, but believe me when I tell you that this is every parent’s nightmare.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. We don’t mean to-“

Karkat was cut off by Egbert raising a hand. The human took a long draw on his pipe; smoke billowed as he exhaled, long and slow and sorrowful. “I know you don’t mean to,” he said, taking the pipe out of his mouth to jab the stem at them. “But you _do,_ and there is a _reason_ for that, and as God is my witness we are going to find that reason and deal with it as a family because I refuse to let things continue like this, understood?”

“I-“ Karkat reached down and fumbled at his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He dropped it before he could get it open, and Egbert caught it before it could hit the ground. “Inside. In the little pocket on the left.”

Egbert opened the wallet and pulled out a small white card, puffing on his pipe as he studied it. “Doctor Lewis?”

“Nepeta gave it to me,” said Karkat. “She said he’s good with moirallegiance, and I didn’t think we needed that but at this point it would be the pinnacle of self-deception and blind ignorance not to do something about this clusterfuck of co-dependance masquerading as a proper conciliatory relationship.”

Egbert sighed heavily, and for a moment he looked older somehow. Karkat still wasn’t completely used to human aging, but he was certain that none of the signs of it miraculously appeared from nowhere. “I suppose a new therapist can’t hurt matters,” he said, and the tone he said it in made Karkat’s skin crawl because he knew that voice, it was the same one he had once used to say things like _I guess we can get two if you’re hungry_ and _okay, but if we get that now then we can’t have one later._

“We don’t have to,” he said, ignoring the inner voice that was cursing at him and saying they really, really did. “It’s not essential, if we can’t-”

“It will be fine,” said Egbert, and he was better at that smile than Karkat had ever been but still not good enough to cover the lie. “I’ll make the phone call after I’m done talking to the lawyer. Don’t worry, boys, I’ll handle this.”

He patted Karkat’s arm before he went, a gesture of affection that made warmth spread through Karkat’s bones.

“Best friend?” asked a small voice beside him, and he looked down to see a second eye gleaming under the blanket. “I gotta- I all up and was hurting you, and I ain’t-”

Karkat closed his eyes and huddled closer to Gamzee. “Later,” he said. “Please, just. Later.”

Gamzee fell silent, and then Karkat felt an arm snake around him and cradle him closer. He pressed his face into Gamzee’s chest, took a deep breath, and let everything fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update to be Friday 12th September.
> 
> And so this arc comes to an end... not a happy one, exactly, but the one it was careening towards nonetheless.
> 
> Next chapter, the other arc for this story resolves in an even more dramatic fashion.


	23. ==> Be The Girl With The Strategy

### CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO ==> Be The Girl With The Strategy

Rose Lalonde pressed her back against the cool concrete wall and forced herself not to look around the corner. Next to her crouched Sollux, eyes glowing bright in the dim light, and the little hairs on her arms all prickled as they reached towards him. If she leaned forward she knew she would have been able to see the hood of the car where Tavros was waiting. Should things go poorly, she was one of the individuals designated to run back to the vehicle and attempt to escape. Of course if things went poorly, she would be fortunate to have the chance to run.

_“Big Ben, this here’s Rubber Duck, we’re ready to roll, over.”_

Once, many years before, she had expressed a mild interest in organized subterfuge after watching a film that John had sent her with too many explosions and an entirely ridiculous plot centered on a tight-knit band of criminal masterminds. Her mother’s response had been to purchase her a plethora of gifts suitable for a budding team of felons, which besides the delicately implied insult to her character was also an entirely empty and hollow gesture given that at the time Rose had precisely three friends and had met none of them in person. It had taken all of half an hour to dig the earpieces out of the loft during the planning phase; if Rose had been at all inclined to glorify or romanticize the extremely rash course of vigilante rescue that they had collectively decided upon, then she might have been willing to admit that acting as the planning General to their small army had been somewhat _fun._

“Message received,” she whispered, depressing the small button on her earpiece that would allow her to transmit. “Hold position until we hear back from Smokey and the Bandit. Over.”

In retrospect allowing Dave to institute and select their code names had been a questionable decision. On the other hand, perhaps a little levity was called for under the circumstances.

_“It’s ten-four, Big Ben, what kind of a trucker are you? You keep this up and we’ll have to strip you of your rank. Hand in your cap and your fuzzy dice, you’re a maverick and there ain’t no room for your sort in this here convoy. Just you try gettin’ service in a greasy spoon when we’re through with you; fuckin’ disgrace to the calling of truck drivers everywhere.”_

Beside her, Sollux hissed and jabbed at his own ear. “Fuck’th thake, DV, do the wordth _radio thilenthe_ mean nothing to you? Becauthe my hearing thpongeth are aching from all the thit you’re pumping into them.”

Rose smirked. “Now, that’s hardly fair,” she said, making sure to broadcast her words. “Rubber Duck is being so talkative because he’s nervous. It’s only his second time, after all.”

There was a brief pause. _“You’re an evil witch,”_ said Dave. Rose could hear muffled cackling in the background.

“Not at all,” she replied, still smiling. “Merely concerned for your well being. Would you like to discuss your feelings of apprehension openly in an attempt to resolve them, because I feel that would prove beneficial to you in our current predicament…”

There was no reply from the other end. Next to her, Sollux was snickering.

“RTh, you are my new favorite,” he said. “You have got to teach me how to do that to KK, it’ll be hilariouth.”

“Perhaps later,” said Rose. Her smile faded as her head turned back towards the blind corner, the itch to just take _one little peek_ resurfacing. “She should have contacted us by now.”

“Everyone’th fine,” said Sollux, with such confidence that Rose cast him a sharp look. She was well aware that her alien friends and siblings kept secrets from her, even after the Night of Blood scandal, and for the most part she assumed that their desire to deceive was based not in willful mistrust but in trauma. Nevertheless, she was starting to get the distinct impression that Sollux had abilities that he had elected not to share, and made a mental note to pry into his business at the first available opportunity.

The radio silence dragged on, more accusatory than relieving. Rose could hear quite clearly all the words Equius was not speaking, and reminded herself once again that Nepeta had been the only sensible choice for the second stage of the plan. After listening to Aradia’s account of their parents’ capture, it had been quite plain to all present that the chances of their own detection on approach were unacceptably high. For this, Rose had identified two possible counters. Attempting to remain unseen seemed unlikely to succeed, given that a smaller number of people with superior training and experience had tried and failed. That left one option: to control the manner of their discovery.

The first stage had been carried out by Tavros, the eyes of gulls and rats performing their reconnaissance for them and identifying a safe distance to approach to. The second stage was down to Aradia and Nepeta and it was, in the words of her dear brother, a “distaction”. Aradia being non-corporeal could appear and disappear with ease, leading and distracting the guards whilst being immune to whatever they might throw her way. Nepeta was accompanying her, partly to give Aradia a solid anchor point to interact with and partly to exploit any opportunities to take foes out of the fight. As the stealthiest of them and an accomplished melee combatant, she had been the natural choice. The fact that Equius was fretting was both understandable and entirely unavoidable.

A burst of gunfire echoed deafeningly between the warehouses, then was abruptly cut off.

 _< Go!>_ shouted a familiar non-voice in their heads, and Rose charged out, already raising the Taser in her hand. It hardly seemed like an adequate weapon, but as Sollux had pointed out they were going to rescue _Vriska,_ if only tangentially. Bringing something immediately effective against psionics had been a priority, and it was hardly the only armament she was holding.

Stage three required a high vantage point, a good throwing arm, and impeccable aim. Thanks to a gloriously human cultural obsession with sports in which one tossed spherical objects around, Rose was possessed of the latter two. As they approached the target warehouse Sollux provided the third in a brilliant flash of psionic power that grabbed Rose and half-lifted, half-threw her into the air. It was somewhat akin to being buoyed up by a particularly aggressive gust of wind, if wind were to crackle and smell of ozone. She flew upwards on fire and lightning and allowed herself for a moment to be recklessly gleeful.

She dropped onto the warehouse roof seconds before Sollux, landing hard and grabbing for a handhold before she could start to slip on the slanted metal sheeting. Blue and red shimmered around her feet, and then she was being held in place, glued to the roof despite her less than stable stance.

“Thank you,” she said to Sollux. He nodded by way of reply, and as there was no time to waste Rose looked around the roof. Seeing nothing, she touched her ear.

“Tavros, which window?” she asked. There was no reply through the communication device, but moments later a seagull flapped down and landed a dozen yards away. Rose set out across the roof and found the bird perched by a small skylight. Through the dirty, yellow-stained pane she could faintly make out shapes moving below. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she reached out and attempted to open the window. The latch refused to move; she glanced up at Sollux, who shrugged. With a sigh she passed him her weapons and shoved at the latch with both hands. In a small shower of rust and splintered paint it moved, and she slowly propped the window open before scrubbing her now reddened hands against her pants legs.

“This is Big Ben,” she said, retrieving one of her weapons from Sollux with her free hand. “We are in position.”

 _“Ten-four, Big Ben. Rubber Duck in position.”_ Dave’s voice was barely even a whisper, and once again Rose could hear everything that Equius was fighting not to say. She glanced down at the device in her hand and mentally ran through his instructions, one more time. In an ideal world, he would have been here to program it himself, but then in an ideal world they would not have required his raw physical power elsewhere.

“Fifteen second pulses, ten pulse total, lowest energy setting,” she murmured, double-checking the setup. “Sollux, that is correct, yes?”

He glanced over her shoulder at the Alternian numerals on the display- their counting system was base twelve and mathematically fascinating but not at _all_ intuitive for a human under significant pressure. “Yeah, that’th right,” he said, his voice even quieter now that there was a real chance of them being overheard. “Thit, I have got to athk EQ how he built the power thourthe on that, it’th _beautiful.”_

Terrible seemed a better description to Rose but she crouched down anyway, squinting through the open skylight and mentally measuring distances. The most important thing here was to drop the device close enough to disable, but not so close that she could be prosecuted for second-degree murder should anyone work out the cause of the chaos. She did not imagine that LA’s finest would look favorably upon her dropping what was in essence an immensely powerful grenade directly on top of her fellow citizens, even if they had kidnapped her mother.

“Incoming,” she whispered, and with a flick of her wrist tossed the sphere through the skylight. It went a little wild and she winced as it bounced off the side of a crate and rolled, ending up a good six yards away from where she had tried to land it- towards empty space, not the criminals. Rose honestly wasn’t certain if that was a good thing or not, but felt mildly relieved when they responded to the clatter of the falling object by moving towards it, negating at least some of her mistake.

“That wath a thitty throw,” said Sollux, and then all hell broke loose.

It started with an outward pulsing sensation which, if pressed, Rose would have been forced to describe as _WHOOMPH._ The air pushed against her, more wall than wind, and only Sollux’s psionics kept her from flying forward. Then there was a deep, grinding rumble and the building under their feet started to ripple. Sollux grabbed her arm and all the hairs on her body stood on end; in a halo of blue-red light, they floated upwards as the metal they had been standing on bent and warped. From their high vantage point, Rose could see small objects rolling and flying towards the warehouse, picking up speed as they grew closer.

Then there was a second pulse, this time inward, and everything that had been flying towards the warehouse dropped to the ground. Rose popped her ears and gripped Sollux’s arm perhaps a little harder than was strictly necessary.

“I believe it is your play, Mister Captor,” she said. Her alien brother grinned, and raised his free hand; unnatural lightning crackled and poured out in sheets to envelop the twisted roof. It hung there, dancing across the surface like oil on water as a fresh outward pulse shoved against them and the world started pouring inwards again. This time his psionics kept the roof stable, held it back from crumpling downwards, until the inward wall of air snapped back past them and the entire roof flew off with a tortured metallic screech. Rose grit her teeth and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, letting the sparks play over her and watching in a sort of grim awe as Sollux crushed the entire roof down into a crumpled ball the size of a large car. Mentally, she chalked up another count of vandalism against them, and started formulating strategies to make a boy with the raw power of a nuclear reactor and an utter disregard for property values palatable to the media and the American public.

On the third pulse, she could see the devastation of the weapon that Equius had called a _Mass Attraction Force Generating Offensive Device_ and Dave had dubbed a _Gravity Bomb_ playing out beneath them. Near to it, crates shattered and gel packs split. The air was full of flying splinters and brilliant blue ooze, all flying towards the small, fist-sized sphere that would not have been at all visible from their height even if it hadn’t been covered already. Outside the immediate radius, people lay flat on the ground, grabbing at anything that could stop them from sliding towards the device. On a fifteen second low power pulse, they should have had time to escape its grasp so long as they were unconcerned with retrieving anything, but Rose felt a stab of guilt when she saw one still, red-stained form sliding towards the core of the gravity field. She had anticipated the possibility of casualties- to do otherwise would have been irresponsible, given how much debris would be flying about- but she had hoped to avoid them. Her eyes narrowed in assessment; the injured man was far enough from the core of the field that he was unlikely to sustain further injury, and though it was hard to tell from such a distance his wounds did not appear immediately fatal. If he was fortunate, he might live yet.

The third pulse fell off and as people scrambled left and right she saw four shapes dart in, mouths and noses covered by medical masks liberated from her mother’s lab. Dave and Terezi moved as a pair, sword and cane in hand, and Rose let her gaze slide off them to where Kanaya was following in Equius’ path with a chainsaw at the ready. Her choice of weapon, taken from the gardener's shed, had come as something of a shock. Still, Rose could hardly deny it was intimidating, and she couldn't argue Kanaya’s competence to use it either. It was certainly proving useful now; between the chainsaw and Equius’ strength, they were quickly clearing a path through the maze of crates, cutting a straight line towards the middle. Blue goop flooded across the floor, and it was hard to tell who was picking through it more daintily; Kanaya, or Dave.

At the fourth pulse they stumbled, but Equius stamped a foot down into solid concrete and the rest of them grabbed for his arms. Sollux snickered and with a flick of his fingers that Rose presumed to be entirely unnecessary, dropped the balled-up roof down in the path of a group of bad guys who were making a beeline towards the chainsaw noises. Luminous blue splattered, and from the panicked response of the criminals Rose concluded that Kanaya had been correct to insist on taking preventative action against accidental inhalation or consumption of the narcotic.

It was at the end of the fifth pulse that she saw a familiar flash of white moving about below, and she abandoned her death-grip on Sollux briefly to point.

“There!” she shouted, and then they were plummeting. Rose screamed in an entirely involuntary reaction as they fell from the sky, Sollux making an all-too-likely Icarus in her decidedly terrestrial imagination. Moments from disaster, they braked; blue fire flared around them and Rose felt a sensation akin to being dropped onto a trampoline made of air, only instead of catapulting her upwards the illusory fabric beneath her snapped and sent her sprawling to the ground.

She was caught inches from disaster by a pair of strong, leather-clad arms, and looked up just in time to see Detective Sikes glare at her from over an improvised face-mask, made from a strip of torn cloth.

“What the hell is wrong with you kids?” he yelled, helping her to her feet and glancing over her shoulder at Sollux, who was landing. “This is crazy, not to mention about a dozen kinds of illegal…”

He was interrupted by the sixth pulse. Sollux’s psionics flared and grabbed everyone, holding them all still and shielding them from flying debris with brief flares of blue and red. Rose took the opportunity to look past Sikes, and frowned when she failed to see her mother with the other three adults.

“Where-“ she asked, as the pulse released them, and Sollux settled them back down on the ground. “Where is my mother?”

“Right here!” yelled a voice from behind her, and Rose whirled just in time to get hit by a perfumed hurricane. For the first time since she was a little girl she returned her mother’s hug with as much enthusiasm as it was given, hands gripping the back of the lab coat and face smooshed into the soft, smothering cushion of her mother’s bosom.

“My little Rosie!” wailed her mother, and Rose sighed but didn’t let go. Her eyes closed as the seventh pulse grabbed them, then flew open as something sharp and bony latched onto her arm.

“SOLLUX, YOU JERK!” yelled a voice, right next to her ear. Rose winced, and then realized that she was _not_ hearing the snicker she had expected from her sardonic companion. Turning her head towards the shout, she saw a close-up of Vriska’s good side, a scrap of cloth bound across her mouth and nose.

“Mother, what did you do?” she said, as the pulse retreated and although her mother couldn’t see her eyes narrow she could hear the dangerous tone.

“Whall, she was all tied up, and I couldn’t just leave her here all on her lonesome,” said Doctor Lalonde. “It’s not safe!”

 _No, it’s not,_ thought Rose, with a glance at Sollux. To say he looked furious would have been a gross and slanderous understatement. “We need to get out of here,” she said. “Dave, Kanaya and the others are clearing a path…”

“Terezi?” asked Doctor Frankel. Rose nodded; the woman’s lips tightened, and she turned almost as gray as Vriska. It would have been fascinating, but right now Rose was mostly focused on making an exit. She turned, looking for a clue, and caught sight of a remarkably purposeful gull hopping and flapping towards them across the crate tops.

“That way!” she said, pointing, and started to move. Her mother grabbed her arm.

“Wait,” she said. “This first.” Reaching down, she ripped two thick strips of cloth off the already-tattered base of her lab coat, and passed one to Rose and one to Sollux. After a moment, they both tied them on for what protection they could offer. The eighth pulse hit before they could start moving, and this time Rose grabbed Vriska before she could get any more claw-holes in her arm. Sollux didn’t wait for the world to return to normal; surrounded by the impenetrable bubble of his psionics, they started floating in the direction of the gull, which Rose could just about see gripping onto a wooden support beam with its talons. She held on tight to her mother and for once did not attempt to maintain a pretense of indifference.

It was as the ninth pulse was fading that Rose heard the revving of a chainsaw, and she stepped back smartly and covered her eyes just as a wall of crates exploded apart. Equius and Kanaya stood in the gap, splattered with narcotic goop and neither of them looking all too cheerful. Rose’s mother let out a squeak and rushed forward, dragging Rose with her; Kanaya switched her chainsaw off just in time to be snatched into a frantic hug.

“Hey, sweetie, good girl!” said their mother, going as if to kiss Kanaya’s hair and then clearly thinking better of it at the sight of the dripping goo. “Dave? Come to mommy!”

Dave sauntered over and stopped several feet away. “Hey, Doc. No hugs here, thanks, I’m allergic- _ungh!”_

The only thing better than the look on Dave’s face at a surprise Mom-hug was the fact that Rose managed to take a picture with her phone before the tenth pulse hit. Potential future blackmail material or trade goods for exchanges with Jade and John: either way, she could scarcely be more satisfied with the result.

“Son,” said Detective Francisco, when down started to be down again for the final time. “As much as we appreciate the rescue, you need to give me that sword now.”

Dave glanced at the blade, then back at the Detective. “No can do,” he said. “A Strider never surrenders his weapon. What if I was suddenly attacked from behind by an ancient Scottish immortal hell-bend on cutting my head off?” He gestured to the aforementioned appendage. “Would you really deny future generations the opportunity to study this work of art?”

Detective Francisco shook his head. “Sword, now, before I arrest you.”

Dave pouted, but handed the blade over. “This is discrimination,” he said. “You’re not taking Terezi’s cane or Kanaya’s chainsaw or Equius’… Equius. I call species bullshit.”

The Detective tilted his head. “Discrimination?” he echoed. “Dave, Equius is unarmed, Kanaya is holding a garden tool, and if you are seriously suggesting I separate a blind girl from her cane to make you feel better I would suggest you take a long, hard look at your own prejudices.”

As Detective Francisco took the lead, and Terezi cackled, Sikes clapped Dave on the shoulder. “If I ever catch you with a live blade again, kid, I will throw you in juvie myself.” He looked around at the assembly. “Same for all of you,” he added, then waved a hand after his partner. “Go on, get a damn move on, willya?”

As they started to head back for the exit, there was a loud rumble, and everything juddered. Rose stumbled, her hand slamming into one of the crates, and everyone froze.

“What the fuck wath that?” asked Sollux, and then the ground bucked and everything crashed. Rose fell backwards and landed on something soft- another person, but she couldn’t tell who because in the same moment the stack of crates next to her overbalanced. She threw her arms up in a futile attempt to ward off danger and was astounded when no impact came. Opening her eyes, she saw the glowing psychic bubble around them, Sollux hovering a couple of feet above ground level as the entire warehouse shook and bucked and creaked around them.

 _“What is, um, what is going on!?”_ yelled Tavros in her ear, and Rose couldn’t answer immediately because even with Sollux’s bubble keeping them safe she needed both hands to grab onto the nearest person and hang on for psychological reassurance and also grim death.

“I believe _that_ is the San Andreas Fault,” she gasped, as soon as she could spare a hand to press to her ear. There was a pause; she could practically hear the Alternians thinking.

“You built a _thity_ on a _faultline?”_ yelled Sollux, his shield flickering for a moment as he glanced down. He was looking dreadfully pale, and Rose wondered just how much strain the psionics put on his system.

“Yeah, you got a problem with that?!” yelled Sikes, in response and over the tortured creaking of metal. Rose was starting to suspect that the warehouse they were in was not structurally sound without a roof, if it had been to start with.

“Have I got a _problem_ with…” Sollux trailed off into a grunt, light flaring as more debris slammed into them. “KN, did you know humanth build thitieth on fault lineth?”

Kanaya swallowed, and reached out to wrap a hand around Rose’s wrist. “I did not. I admit I am surprised; I would have thought it made for was a fairly costly practice, not to mention dangerous.”

Rose spared her a small smile and tried not to shiver when the floor jumped. “It often is, yes…” Looking across the bubble of safety, she saw Equius sweating furiously, his eyes flickering left and right. “Equius, are you quite alright?”

The large troll shook his head, his face pale and blue-tinted. “Miss Lalonde, I fear that I may have foolishly failed to account for all the variables and placed Nepeta’s life in unforgivable danger.”

Vriska rolled her eyes. “Puh-leaze, how dumb do you think I am? On a low setting the side-effects should be minor. Also, you owe me a new one.”

Kanaya frowned. “Vriska, I hardly think that an earthquake can be counted as a minor side-effect.” As if to underscore her words, the ground gave a particularly firm judder.

“And I do not owe you anything, you said you wanted it for self-defense and we are defending your self.” added Equius.

“It’s only a small earthquake!” Vriska had to yell to be heard over the sound of crates crashing down. “Don’t be such a baby, no-one’s going to die. Unless they’re stupid, in which case, who cares?”

Sikes stared at her. “Okay, Miss Psychopath junior, time for you to stop talking before I gotta arrest your ass too.”

“Matt, that is not appropriate…”

“NOT HELPING, GEORGE!”

“MATT!” Doctor Frankel yelled, trying to grab the Detective and missing wildly as the ground bucked again. _“You_ are not helping! Calm down!”

Terezi started to cackle, but the sound of her laughter was drowned out by the clatter and crash of a stack of crates tumbling down onto them and shattering against Sollux’s shield. Rose flinched and pulled closer to her mother and vowed never to mention just how comforting it was to be held tighter.

There was movement to the side, too controlled to be more tumbling crates, and Rose looked around to see a man walking closer. He was short and bald and his white suit was marred with the filth that was flying, but he strolled along unhurt and in his arms was a familiar form. Equius let out a wordless yell, jumped up, and immediately fell over again as he tried to run towards his moirail. Nepeta was clearly unconscious, and there was olive blood dribbling from her head; the man carrying her picked his way carefully towards them, and placed her down at the very edge of Sollux’s shield.

“Scratch!” yelled Vriska, hurling a splinter of wood the size of Rose’s forearm at the man. “I’m going to get you!”

The man smiled, and although it was perfectly polite and pleasant Rose couldn’t help but note how utterly unnerving it was. “Miss Serket, Doctors, Detectives. It’s been a pleasure, but I really must be going.”

He took a step back and Sikes surged after him, half running and half lunging towards the man. Without a waver in his smile, the man reached out and shoved hard at an already-teetering stack of crates.

“NO!” Equius shouted, diving forwards, but it was Sikes who was closest and before Rose had blinked the man had dragged Nepeta into the shield and her moirail’s waiting arms, moments before heavy wood hit the ground where she had been. Blue gel and splinters flew, and when they settled there was no sign of the man.

Her mother gave her a quick squeeze, then scooted over to where Equius was cradling his moirail and whispering to her in frantic Alternian, so fast that Rose could only make out every fifth word or so. “Lemme see,” she said, reaching out. Equius hissed at her. Rose’s mother backed off, met his gaze firmly, then smacked him on the nose. “Bad alien!” she said, ignoring her stunned audience. “I’m a pro doc, lemme see or I’m giving you _rabies jabs.”_

Equius let her approach on the second attempt, although he still glared at her. Rose suspected that it had little to do with her mother’s words and everything to do with her attitude. At any rate, the examination she gave was swift and professional and ended in a nod.

“She’s alive and is probly gonna be totes okay,” she said, and Rose let out a breath that had been caught for longer than she had realized. “But I’m p sure we should get out of here, already.”

“Should be do-able,” Doctor Frankel said. Wobbling slightly, she clambered to her feet. “I think the tremors are dying down. Terezi, you stick by me, okay?”

They set off in uneven parade, weaving through the chaos of the fading aftershocks with Sollux in the lead. The journey out was short and yet felt extensive; without any conscious choice to do so, Rose found herself walking between Kanaya and her mother, and shared a wry smile with the Alternian girl as they stepped out into clear air. They had scarcely been there a moment before a gull let out a sharp call, causing most of them to jump.

Rose touched a hand to her ear. “Tavros, I assume from that that you are quite well?”

 _“I’ve, been better,”_ he replied. _“But, um, no harm has been done, to the car or, uh, to my person, so that is something, that I can be glad about. Also, Aradia is here, with me, in so much that she is anywhere, I suppose. She says that, um, Nepeta is hurt.”_

“We have recovered Nepeta,” said Equius, his free hand cradling his moirail with a tenderness that belied the dull anger he was directing outwards. “She will recover.”

“What, no heartfelt tears over our apparent demise?” asked Dave, touching his own earpiece. “I’m heartbroken, Tav, I thought we had something special.”

“It is a grave disappointment,” Terezi agreed.

Tavros laughed, a little dry bark of a thing that was almost drowned out by the sound of approaching sirens. _“Sorry, but, I was looking forward too much, to, um, claiming your possessions?”_

Dave babbled back at him, and Rose heaved a sigh of relief that it was over and that everyone she cared for had survived the ordeal.

From behind them, there was a click. Everyone turned, to see an injured man leaning against the decidedly tattered wall of the warehouse. He was doubled over and bleeding from a gash above his eye, and he would hardly have seem threatening at all were it not for the gun in his hand and the glint in his eye. The next few events happened so quickly that Rose was left blinking as her mind attempted to recreate the sequence.

Vriska narrowed her eyes. The thug raised the gun.

Detective Francisco stepped forward. There was a flash of steel and the thud of a fist on flesh.

The thug was no longer holding a gun, and was lying at the feet of the Detective, staring wide-eyed at the sword leveled at his throat.

“Sonofa…” Sikes said, gaping at his partner. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“Fencing classes,” said Francisco.

“Fencing classes!?”

“Yes, they’re a good form of exercise and really quite interesting. You should accompany me sometime.”

Sikes shook his head. “Yeah, maybe.” He turned to look at them all. “Everyone okay?”

There was a fog of assent; Rose murmured her own yes, and wrapped one hand around her mother’s while the other clutched onto Kanaya. It was hardly graceful or dignified, but at that point she could safely say that she cared precisely nothing for such concepts.

“Okay,” said Sikes. “Here’s how this is gonna happen. The rest of the LAPD are gonna show up. We’re gonna tell them all about the kidnapping, the drugs, the fact that you kids came to rescue us because you’re all psychic, nuts, or both, and how the earthquake took us all by complete surprise and saved our asses. And then we are gonna go home and never, ever, ever do this again, got it?”

More nodding. Rose smiled to herself and let her head slip sideways to rest in the crook of Kanaya’s neck, startling the Alternian slightly. She had heard what Sikes didn’t say, and if he was willing to blame all of the damage on the earthquake, then she certainly wasn’t going to bring up the sort of technology that could legitimately be described as a “doomsday device”.

“And then,” Sikes added, reaching down to grab the unfortunate thug by the collar and haul him, squeaking, to his feet. _“You_ are going to have a very long chat with me and my partner. You've got a story to tell, and it starts like this: a psionic walks into a bar and explodes…”

Rose’s smile deepened as she saw Dave jolt up in surprise, and then as the sounds of sirens grew closer she allowed herself to lean against her mother's arm and give silent thanks that her plan had worked.


	24. ==> Be The Guy With A Future

### EPILOGUE ==> Be The Guy With A Future

On a normal day he would have swaggered in like he owned the place; would have marched right up the steps, kicked the door open, and shouted "Honey! I'm home!" just to rattle everyone inside. It would have been hilarious.

This was not a normal day, but he refused to let that stop him entirely. He might not have it in him to be larger-than-life, but fuck it all if he was going to knock on the door like a regular mortal. There was a second storey window open over the bay window. The trellis wasn't really meant to take human weight but he was fast enough to get up there before it realized he was cheating.

Halfway through the window he could no longer prevent himself from contemplating that the fact he would rather break into this house than knock on the front door was essentially emblematic of every fuck-up he had made with his life, ever. He compartmentalized the distress, tucking it away into a corner of his head where it wouldn't interrupt what he had to do, and focused on creeping out into the corridor and ghosting down the stairs towards the sound of voices. He was a fucking ninja; James Bond had nothing on his moves. Unseen, he settled in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the door frame and watching.

Dave and Rose were sitting together, the only two humans at a table of alien faces. Dirk thought he might be proud of them if it didn't sting so badly; they both looked happy, in a way he hadn't seen when they knew he was looking. Dave's mask was slipping and fuck, of all the things Dirk had to regret that was the largest one. He hadn't meant to teach the kid to bury everything; when he'd first seen Dave trying to imitate him he'd thought it was cute, dumb punk adolescent that he'd been, and by the time he'd worked out where that road led it was too late to change course.

It was one of the trolls that saw him first, the little cat-girl. She pointed to him with a squeak, and they all fell silent as they looked around to see him watching. The laughter evaporated from the room, leaving behind a wariness that Dirk had never wanted to inspire.

Dirk nodded to them all. "Hey, there," he said. Rose and Dave were both staring at him; his little brother's jaw was dangling a little, the hints of a smile showing, but his little sister was the sharp one. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

"Dave," she said quietly. "Perhaps you should go and talk to Bro in private."

Dave glanced towards her like he had forgotten she was there. "Uh? Oh, yeah, sure." He slipped out from behind the table and strolled over to Dirk, hands clenched in his pockets and every line of his body screaming the lie of his lazy slouch.

"Hey, li'l bro," said Dirk, pushing off from the door frame.

"Yo," said Dave, giving him a nod then strolling past him. Dirk followed him down the hall into the sitting room. It hardly counted as a separate room with the wide open corridor between them and the kitchen, but he spent a moment convincing himself that the illusion of privacy would make this easier.

"Amazed you braved Mom's house to come get me," said Dave, breaking the silence before it could stretch.

Dirk snorted. "Like I'm scared of some dumb building." Especially since this wasn't the one he'd grown up in. The house in New York might be enough to rattle him, but he didn't plan to admit it. "Come on kid, you know me better than that."

"Yeah, sure," said Dave, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He clicked his tongue. "So, when we headed home?"

Dirk hesitated, and didn't quite recover fast enough. The silence lingered too long.

"Bro?" said Dave, voice wavering slightly. "Come on, man, this isn't funny. You were cleared of all charges and I'm just about ready to blow this joint-"

"Ain't that simple, little man." Dirk looked down at his brother- not far though, because Dave was only about one growth spurt off his full height and he was only an inch or two shorter than his Bro already. He was virtually the same age Dirk had been, when he'd taken Dave and left.

"What do you mean, it's not that simple?" said Dave, a little more force behind his words. "Come on, Bro, you're not in jail, we've got places to go and people to see..."

"You ain't coming back with me," said Dirk. Fast and merciless, like tearing off a band-aid. Like breaking bone.

Dave hesitated for all of a second. "Bullshit. Of course I am; you think I'm gonna fall for that dumbass joke? You and me, we're Striders, it's us against the world. Shit is worthy of Hollywood. You don't leave a man behind, that's crazy talk. You ain't gonna leave me captured by Charlie, no way, you're gonna go all Rambo and bust your way in outta the jungle and-"

"Dave."

Dirk's brother fell silent, but not because he'd heard his name. No, he was staring in shock at Dirk's face, because Dirk had reached up and pushed his shades to the top of his head, and was looking at his little bro bare-eyed and open. Jail had fucking sucked ass, but at least it had forced him to break the stranglehold of compulsion when it came to the stupid shades. He needed that now.

"Our apartment was full of swords and puppets with dicks for noses," he said, looking through the mirrored surface of Dave's aviators to where he knew a pair of red eyes were staring back. "There were shuriken in the microwave, katana in the fridge, and fetish gear in the blender. I ain't under arrest because I never did anything illegal to your gleaming virgin ass, but by court order I ain't fit to be responsible for a goldfish, let alone a human being." Dirk reached out and pulled Dave's head forward, leaning in until their brows were pressed together. "You're a good kid," he said, quietly. "But I'm not a good guardian."

The shove that pushed him away was strong; Dave wasn't his little noodle kid any more. "Fuck you!" hissed his brother, anger cracking and crumbling his poker face. "So what, you just gave up? Did you even fight back at all?"

"Dave-"

"No, you know what?" Dave took a step back towards the corridor. "I'm not doing this. I don't know what kind of sick fucking game this is and I don't care. I'm done with your bull. Come find me when you're done shitting me about."

Dirk watched his brother turn and run down the corridor out of sight, then slipped his shades back on and made his own retreat. The last thing he wanted to do was sit about until Rose came to find him; he'd told Dave what he needed to say, and trying to chase him down now would do more harm than good.

This time he left by the door like a normal goddamn human being, closing it with a quiet click and sauntering down the driveway deep in thought, sneakers crunching on the gravel. It was a long journey back to the apartment and he hadn't brought the car. He'd wanted the space to think, although he had to admit that he'd already known he wouldn't use it well. His head was too good at chasing itself in circles, even when it was thinking in straight lines.

"Penny for your thoughts," said a voice off to the side, and Dirk's head snapped around to see his mother sitting in the shelter of a gazebo artfully decorated with trailing vines. For a moment anger flared up, old and dull and blunt at the edges. He pushed it back down, right alongside the urge to turn away and keep moving.

 _Don't let her know she gets to you._ Only the feeling was a reflex, old and faded, not a reaction to anything current. Dirk noted it for later study.

"Only a penny?" he said, strolling over to the gazebo and leaning against the upright, oh-so-casual. "I'm wounded. I'd have thought you'd at least offer me a pony."

The look she gave him was unusually sharp. "Would it do any good?"

"Probably not." He shifted slightly; turned as if he was going to leave.

"Wait."

Dirk paused and looked back towards his mother. The expression on her face wasn't one he ever remembered seeing there before, but he was pretty sure that if he took his shades off and looked in a mirror he would see its twin.

"We're really fuckin' bad at this, aren't we?" he said. "Look at us. Two perfect freaks of nature with no business bringin' up anybody. It's a complete fuckin' mystery they turned out as good as they did."

"Oh, sweetie," said his Mom. She shifted as if to get up; Dirk took a step back, and she froze in place. Her eyes were glistening wet, but they didn't spill over as she looked up towards him. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice surprisingly firm.

"It was my own fucking fault," said Dirk. "I'm the one who should be apologizing, and to Dave."

"Not that," said his Mom, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I'm sorry that I wasn't the mother you needed me to be." She sighed and wriggled back on the bench. "I don't know if you're ready to forgive me, or if you ever will be, but I need to tell you that I'm sorry."

Dirk's jaw ached, his teeth were pressed so tight together. "Forgive you?" he asked, unable to keep the low hum out from under his words. "For what? You were always so fucking attentive and loving. Always gave us whatever we asked for. Practically spoiled us; no wonder we're all such a bunch of arrogant fucking brats."

The look of sheer grief on her face was utterly predictable, which did nothing to stop the dart of guilt stabbing through his heart. Dirk groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry. Seems that I'm a fucking asshole. Who would have guessed?"

"You were always p much a total assbutt," his Mom agreed.

Dirk's hand dropped and, forgetting himself for a moment, he gaped. Because Mom never criticized, she never outright said things like that, it was always hints and suggestions and underhanded gestures of false affection. The way she was looking at him now was just so sincere that he couldn't get it straight.

Was this what it was like for Dave, talking to him? Well, what the fuck. If sincerity was the order of the day, he could keep up with the best of them. He could find the irony in it later.

"And you were always pretty much a distant, ice-bitch of a lush," he said. "So what is it you want forgiveness for? For not being there for us? For leaving me to look after the twins? For only ever showing up so fucking shit-faced that _we_ had to look after _you?_ For mocking us with parodies of affection, for trying to buy our love, for getting your stupid ass knocked up in the first place!?"

He was shouting and that was bad, but the words were clawing their way out of him like he was a dragon with a bad case of heartburn, whoops, there goes another village. Those medieval peasants better run and find a Knight because he was burning, he was on fucking fire, the cold core of anger that he'd built himself around flaring up to the size of a goddamn sun so fast he couldn't hide it any more.

Her hand touched his cheek before Dirk saw her stand up, and she pulled him forwards into a hug. He let her do it and rested against her. He didn't cry. She did. Both of them held onto one another like they thought they might break if they clung to hard, or spin away if they let go.

After what might have been forever, Dirk took a step back- not far enough to shake off the hands resting on his arms, but enough to pull them out of- of whatever that had been.

"I don't know what to do," he said, quietly.

His Mom nodded. Her hands slid down his arms, gripped his fingers, and pulled him over to the bench. They sank down next to one another, side-by-side in a way Dirk would never have anticipated. He tried to assemble an analysis of the situation, but everything in his head was scattered too wide to comprehend.

"What do you want to do?" she asked him. "I mean, you're totes smart, don't tell me you're not. I know how all kinds of smart I am, and how brilliant Rosie is. And I know you were always uber-clever, too. So I think you could probably do whatevs if you wanted."

Dirk considered her point. "Jesus. I really am your kid, aren't I?" He shook his head. "Ridiculously intelligent, fantastic potential, then I manage to land myself with a kid in my teens and spend the next decade fucking neglecting them. You didn't mean to either, did you?"

"Nope," said his Mom. "But hey, at least you weren't totally drunk and useless, like, all the time."

"No, I just filled the apartment with weird porn and weaponry, then got arrested," said Dirk. "Way better."

"Absolutely," said his Mom, with such utter solemnity that Dirk stared at her in shock for a few seconds before she started snickering. He managed not to laugh, just, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile and he let her tug him into a side-hug.

"So how did Davey take it?" she asked. Dirk tilted his head so he could see her face, but the smile was gone, and her eyes were full of concern.

"He's pissed," said Dirk. "He'll get over it."

"Yah, but I gotta deal with him." Her nose wrinkled. "Pff. And he still doesn't get on with Sollie. You wanna help redecorate the loft? I need more space if we've gotta take care of him and Vriskie too now."

Dirk squirmed to try and escape the strange mix of grief and relief settling in his chest. "What the fuck makes you think I'm any use as a handyman?"

"Nothing," replied his Mom. "But the rest of us are one hundred percent useless anyhow, so you won't be worse."

"Damn right I won't," said Dirk. "I'll be the best amateur handyman you ever did see. You'll get professionals paying to come watch me work."

"That's the spirit!" His Mom chuckled, and twisted an arm around to ruffle his hair. Dirk huffed and pulled away from her, straightening and brushing it back into style with his hands. Seeing her smiling at him, he sighed and lowered his hands to rest on his knees.

"Look," he said, with too much reluctance. "I know you're in a program now, and you're trying to make amends and all that crap, but with us- I mean, there's so much, you know? And I've spent ten years happily being an orphan, let alone the shit that happened before that. I don't know how you can be my mother now."

She thought about this, face furrowed deep in concentration. "Me neither," she said eventually. The admission was unexpected, but however true it was, it was still disappointing. Dirk nodded and let his head turn to stare at the floor, but was interrupted by a hand on his arm.

"How about your friend?"

Dirk looked back up at her. “Huh?”

The woman who had given birth to him twenty-six years earlier held out her hand. “Hi. My name's Roxy Lalonde, and I'm a really bad Mom. How 'bout you?”

Dirk studied the hand for a moment, then reached out and took it. “Dirk Strider,” he said. “And I ain't exactly Mom of the year, either.”

Roxy laughed; it was a light, bubbling sound, and Dirk couldn't ever remember hearing her make it before. He returned it with a hint of a wry smile, feeling the whirling thoughts in his head fall back into orbit. Plans were unfolding, ideas on possible college courses, reorganizing his finances, helping decorate a loft for Dave, keeping his projects going. And there, right in the middle of it, hope.

He'd fuck it up somehow, he was sure of it, but then so would she. They'd deal. Friends weren't guardians; they weren't supposed to be infallible. For the moment, they sat together in the garden, and discussed Dave's loft conversion. Dirk wanted to mess with him, but more than that he wanted his li'l bro to be comfortable. Roxy wanted to shower the kid with gifts, but was not averse to pranks. Their goals were aligned, and before long they had an entire list of potential ideas to try and talk the poor unsuspecting kid into.

Forget beautiful friendships; this could be the beginning of a truly unholy alliance. And with a little luck, Dirk thought that could be a stronger bond than anything he had lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END! S'pose I should get writing on the next one, huh?
> 
> So, while not the happiest of endings, it is at least hopeful, I think! Nobody died, anyway. ;) It's been a fun ride and I would like to thank you all for your comments, questions, and general levels of enthusiasm and interest! I have the best readers and it blows me away every time, so THANK YOU ALL!
> 
> The next fic in this series, entitled **You Reap What You Sow** , is planned and will be written before posting on this site, although I cannot make any promises as to when that will be. I give you my word, though, that it _will_ be written, and point to my update schedule as a sign that my word is good!
> 
> Updates on my fics are available as ever at [this location](http://celynbrum.tumblr.com/search/story%20status).
> 
> *bows and exits*


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